Ebony and Ivory
by KuteInsanity
Summary: The things in life that seem the most different are often the things that work best together. Maybe after awhile you'll discover they're not so different after all, and then you'll wonder how they ever survived apart in the first place...Dante/Lady
1. It's just a flesh wound

**A/N: **Okay, here's the deal. This story is based off of a writing community on LiveJournal called 30 Wounds. The idea behind the community is that you get thirty different prompts, and you're supposed to write thirty different one-shots about whatever pairing you choose based on these themes. Well, instead of writing thirty short stories, I've decided I'm going to write one huge, long-ass story, with each theme being a different chapter. The chapter titles will be the names of the themes. So this story is going to have thirty chapters. Get it? Okay, good.

This is a Dante/Lady story, and it is also a story about Dante and Lady as individual characters, though ultimately I'm going to try and focus it on their relationship. Here's the deal - the first half of the story is set during DMC3. Some of the chapters will be original things I think could have happened in between canon scenes, and some (like this one) will basically be novelizations of scenes that really happened, focusing more on what's going on in their heads and all that. The second half of this story (chapter 15 on) will take place after the third game and be original stuff (so if you wanted to skip the novelization, you could start reading at chapter 15).

Okay, now about the M rating...I hate rating this M because the vast majority of the chapters will be more in the K+ to T range. However, there will eventually be some chapters that are definitely deserving of M, so because of that I will keep the whole story rated that way. So yes, that's a future warning, there will be sexual content in this. Not for a long time, though. Please attempt to hide your disappointment.

As for the title, I couldn't think of anything else and I thought it was a good comparison to Dante and Lady. Dante's guns look different on the outside (well, different colors), but they work the same, and work best when together. Likewise, Dante and Lady seem different at first glance, but are actually very much the same, and work good together. Or are MEANT to be together, I should say. Although I doubt they'll ever hook them up in the game, but that's why fanfiction exists! Oh, and also, it fits with their hair colors - Dante has white hair, Lady has black hair. I just thought of that now.

Okay, I think that is all. Hope you like, and if you bother to read this story please take a minute to review and let me know what you think!

* * *

**_Chapter One - "It's Just a Flesh Wound..."_**

**[I]**

The girl was used to having her life flash before her eyes - it had happened to her many times before.

You see, Mary wasn't exactly your typical, every-day girl. Her life may have started out that way, but by the time she was in her early teens, things had gotten a bit more complicated. It had started getting weirder when her father steadily became more and more obsessed with demons and the underworld, followed by his little announcement that he planned to become one himself. His dabbling in the dark arts had been scary enough, but it didn't end there. Everything would have been okay, so she convinced herself, if she had just run away with her mother. The two could have escaped him, moved away and been a happy family by themselves. That had been the plan, in fact.

But then she had awoken one morning to find her mother dead, and her entire world shifted irreversibly.

Her mother had been her best friend in life. She was at an age where most girls snub their mothers, don't dare to be seen in public with them, but Mary had been different. She had always been different from the other children, and she didn't care to be friends with any of them. Her mother understood her, and was the one who encouraged her to be independent and strong. She was the one who had always supported her endeavors as a child, always finding ways to pay for her gymnastics and karate classes, no matter how tight the budget was. The two could talk about anything, from the most silly and childish of topics to the most serious - namely, as time went on, their growing dread of Mary's father.

And then one day she awoke to find her mother, her biggest source of comfort in life, violently ripped away from her, never to return. Stolen from her by her father. That was the day that had changed her. Her world had come shattering down as her innocence broke, along with her heart, which was filled with an unquenchable rage. Her world was consumed by it. That very day, she had made a vow for revenge, and that was the first time her life had flashed before her eyes. It had flashed because it that was the day that Mary had died. The young, innocent Mary had died, and in her place a nameless girl was born, a cold girl who did nothing but train herself, perfecting her skills in a mechanical way with one purpose - to kill her father, and every other demon that was unfortunate enough to fall across her path. She had become a girl who would never stop, never rest, never feel peace, until every demon in existence was eradicated for good.

This was the girl who was falling to her death, who had just been flung over the edge of the tower and towards the ground by the very father she had been trying to kill. The fall was incredibly long, like a bottomless pit. The wind felt like needles pricking her skin, chilling her to the bone, and her stomach all but flew through the top of her head as she plummeted straight towards the ground.

But her life had had so much peril, so many near-death experiences, that she was able to think straight in situations where most humans would panic, thereby signing their own death certificates. She fought back the numb terror in her heart, forced herself not to think about the fact that this really might be her end, and she tried to formulate a plan. She forced her thoughts to be rational, to figure out how to save herself before she ended up as nothing more than a splatter on the unforgiving ground.

She could feel the straps of Kalina Ann - her rocket launcher that was named after her mother - tugging into her skin, and the heavy object only seemed to be pulling her down faster. Her mind whirred as her body plummeted downwards.

_I need to get it off, need to prop it up against something, use the blade, dig into the wall, need to use it to slow down - _

And just like that, she stopped.

The world was still upside down, and the sudden, jolting lack of movement forced a wave of nausea over her, the blood rushing into her head, which pounded with a headache. She felt dizzy, the tower wall spinning before her, the sudden stillness disorienting her even more than the actual fall had. She struggled to think. It felt like minutes, but it was actually a mere split second before she realized what had happened.

Somebody's hand was wrapped firmly around her ankle.

She lifted her heavy head in alarm, and saw an upside-down man. He was tall, young, strong, with a muscular physique beneath a long red jacket. His hair was silver, and it fell into his eyes, which looked clearly amused, and were of a piercing blue. His lips were curved into a grin. He was _smirking _at her. He looked exceptionally calm for someone who had just caught a woman falling from the sky, and she suddenly felt trapped in his grasp.

Instinctively, she brought her arms out in front of her, guns aimed at his face in a position of self-defense. She trusted no one. As far as she was concerned, everyone was her enemy until they gave her solid evidence proving otherwise, especially around places like this. It didn't matter that he had just saved her life - he still couldn't be trusted. Besides, she was more than capable of saving her own life. She didn't want help from anyone.

And then he actually had the nerve to chuckle at her, as she dangled somewhat helplessly over the void.

"Well, this is _my _kind of rain!" His voice was youthful, cocky, flirtatious. She could see his eyes roaming over her as he grinned, and her defiance only increased. She was reminded of the perverted boys she had met long ago at school. "No wonder the sky looked so funny today."

"Let me go!" She demanded, fingers waiting ready on the triggers of her guns. Clearly, he didn't take her seriously, and she wouldn't hesitate for a second to show just how serious she could be.

"Let you _go_?" He said, his voice full of mock alarm, and she got the impression he was speaking down to her. "But it would be a waste if you ended up as just a pretty stain."

That was all she needed to hear. She pulled the trigger, a bang echoing as the bullet hit him square in the forehead. If the sweet-talking bastard wouldn't honor her wishes, she'd force him to. She lost all sympathy for anyone who underestimated her, who treated her like a sex object, or on the other end, like a stupid little girl. Her extremely defensive nature was quick to attack people like that and slow to feel remorse for them.

And she found herself falling again, stomach plummeting, world distorting, but she was prepared this time. She had known before she pulled the trigger that she'd be going down as his body limply fell backwards, and she knew what to do. Quick as lightening, she slid the straps of Kalina Ann off her shoulders and manuevered the rocket launcher in front of her, grasping the weapon firmly in her arms with the large blade facing the tower wall. Pushing with all her might, she forced the blade into the wall, digging the sharp object into the surface. There was a screeching noise that she barely heard with the wind rushing in her ears, and she watched as little pieces of wall crumbled away, the blade trailing a long gash down the side of the building as she continued to fall, holding on tightly, the blade slowly digging in deeper and deeper.

And then abruptly it stopped, the blade finally sinking in deep, the rocket launcher protruding from the wall like a tree limb. For a split second there was nothing but pure terror in her body as the sudden stop jolted her backwards, clammy fear flashing through her palms and the soles of her feet, but the terror was gone as quickly as it came. Her grip was firm, and she held on tightly as her body swung back and forth with momentum from the sudden stop. The launcher held firm. The entire process took mere seconds that had stretched on for ages. Relief flooded through her as she realized she had done it, she had stopped her fall. For the moment, she was safe.

"What the hell was that for?"

Relief was replaced by alarm as a voice called down at her from above. She looked up in shock, and there he was, the man she had just shot in the forehead, leaning over the edge. All traces of flirtation were erased from his features, and he looked angry. Even from the distance, she could see the intensity of his blue eyes glaring at her, and there was blood on his forehead. Blood, but no bullet hole.

_What - how -_

"Here I am trying to help you, and you show your thanks by shooting me?"

Without a moment's hesitation, she ripped her gun from its holster, hanging on by only one hand now, and fired another shot directly into his face. His head jerked backwards and he disappeared from view, but she knew he'd be back. If one bullet hadn't stopped him, neither would two. She did a quick flip fowards, her feet landing on top of the rocket launcher. She crouched on it in a defensive position, one hand leaning against the tower for support, body balancing skillfully on the launcher. She kept her gun aimed at the spot where his face had just been, waiting for it to reappear.

Sure enough, it did. He peered over the edge again, eyes still an icy glare, and she watched in awe as he spit her bullet out of his mouth to the side, as casually as a human might spit out a kernel of popcorn. She couldn't stop herself from feeling amazed. She had seen many things, but never _that._

He wasn't human, that much was for sure.

Her body tensed, muscles straining, finger waiting ready on the trigger. Human or not, she could take him. She'd have no choice if he attacked.

But he didn't attack. He simply glared down at her, then waved her away dismissively, walking away from the edge in an annoyed sort of manner. His voice carried down as he left.

"Whatever. Do as you please."

He sounded like a man who had just been rejected for a date, as opposed to shot twice in the head. The next instant, he was gone.

She lowered her gun slowly, still in a bit of shock from what she had just seen.

"So, he's a demon too..." She muttered to herself.

Never before had she seen a demon that resembled a human so strongly. _Maybe he's some kind of shape-shifter, _she mused. Either way, she had killed lots of demons before, and never once had she seen one react so casually to the threat of death. Demons were hard to kill, but enough ammunition eventually took care of them, and he acted like she had been spraying him with a water gun instead of driving bullets through his skull. Like a bullet to the brain was just a simple flesh wound.

He was stronger than the others.

_Great, just another thing to watch out for._

She sighed, head and body aching from everything that had just happened in the last few minutes. As if seeing her father for the first time in years only to be defeated by him wasn't bad enough. Now she had a new threat to deal with. Well, he better just pray he didn't run into her again, because she wouldn't show mercy.

_He may be strong, but nothing is immortal._

With this thought in mind, she reholstered her gun, preparing herself for the long journey down the side of the tower.

**[I]**

Dante sighed to himself as he walked away from the ledge. He could feel blood trickling down his forehead, and he wiped it away in annoyance.

"I'm beginning to think I've got rotten luck with women," he muttered to himself, wiping his now bloody fingers against the wall as he walked back into the tower.

He recognized the girl - she was the one who drove a motorcycle, who had come crashing through the roof of the Ice Guardian's chamber. That was the first time he had seen her, and she had intrigued him then. Seriously, what could be more interesting than a girl randomly crashing through a roof on a motorcycle? He hadn't gotten a good look at her, but from the glance he did get, it was obvious she was pretty and well-endowed. Not to mention clearly skilled, which was a nice change of pace. Most of the girls he knew who had features as pleasing as hers weren't really skilled at much except dancing around poles.

He had hoped at the time that he'd run into her again, maybe actually get to talk to her this time, but the thought had sort of slipped his mind as he continued on his journey, dealing with more serious matters. But then, lo and behold, she had come falling from the heavens, directly into his outstretched hand. His hopes had been answered better than he could have asked for...well, with the exception of her trying to kill him.

He scoffed to himself, shaking his head slowly as he thought about it. Crazy bitch. What the hell had she been thinking? She should have been _thrilled_ she'd run - well, fallen - into him. Did she really think she could make it on her own? Skilled as she may have been, it was obvious she was still only human. Even the most skilled human being was no match for some of the stuff that came out of the portals of the underworld.

At the very least, no matter how independent her spirit, she should have at least appreciated the fact that he had been trying to _help _her, instead of treating him like an enemy. Actually, come to think of it, that first time they had met in that chamber, she had fired a missile at him. Maybe that should have been a warning sign right then. But that had been different. She hadn't gotten a good look at him, didn't know anything about him except that he had taunted her. This time was a whole different scenario. This time he had saved her life.

_Well, whatever. Let her go and get herself killed. _In all honesty, though, that wasn't really what he wanted. Somehow, the fact that she had behaved so stubbornly only made the nameless girl more intriguing than before. Half of him didn't want to see her again, wanted her to stay the hell out of his way, but the other half of him hoped he'd run into her again. He had a feeling she wasn't finished with him. Well, good, 'cause he wasn't finished with _her_. If they did meet again, maybe he could enlighten her a little. Give her a real taste of what she was going up against.

"Just try and kill me again, babe." He murmured to himself. He brought his fingers up and rubbed them across his forehead. Just as he suspected - not a single scratch to be found. He smirked. "Just a flesh wound. You'll see. You're gonna have to learn that your bullets don't work against my kind."

This thought in mind, he pulled out Ebony and Ivory in preparation as he pushed through the next door. Bullets might not work against demons of his level, but there were plenty of lesser hellspawn that were susceptible to them. Maybe a good round of ass-kicking was exactly what he needed.


	2. Sharp Tongue

**_Chapter Two - Sharp Tongue_**

**[II]**

The bad news was that the journey down the tower was as slow and grueling as she had expected it to be. She had used Kalina Ann to lower herself steadily the whole way, and it was a long way down. The rocket launcher's blade was actually the end of a hookshot, and when she was confident it was stuck firmly into the building, she steadily lowered herself down, clinging tight. Once the line had lowered as far as it could go, she found the nearest steady foothold. One good thing about that tower was that it was indeed very rugged, like the face of a cliff, and there was always somewhere for her to stick her boot. Once she was certain she had a firm grip on the side of the tower, she'd reel in the blade, stick it in the wall level with where she stood, and continue on her way down again. The whole process was lengthy and unnerving, but eventually, after long last, she stepped foot on solid ground again, breathing a sigh of relief.

No sooner had she done so than she was attacked by a horde of demons, but this actually turned out to be the good news. They were lesser demons, ones she had faced and conquered countless times before, and were a welcome break from the human-esque, indestructible demon thing she had encountered earlier. She was confident in her ability to kill _these_ demons, and it had felt so good taking them out, despite how tired she was from the journey down.

But she had done it, regaining energy and enthusiasm as she went along. Really, a good round of ass-kicking was all it took to raise her spirits, if only a little bit. The sense of accomplishment and confidence it filled her with reminded her why she was here in the first place.

But right now, all was quiet. She had been entirely alone for a while now, though her gun always remained loaded and clutched firmly in her grasp. If there was one thing she had learned over the years, it was to always expect the unexpected. So she wandered among the ruins, the demolished buildings, the giant tower, with her gun constantly held at the ready, waiting for something to attack her.

She had just approached a new area outside, with steps leading up to a door, which led into the tower. Her father was in there somewhere, she knew it. She could sense that she was close to him. She needed to go.

As she walked slowly towards the entrance, something caught her eye. On the nearby wall, someone had written the word "Welcome" in red, with an arrow pointing towards the very door she was headed to, and a picture of a laughing clown face beneath the word. The red word was dripping, and it looked like it could be made from real blood. It gave her an eerie feeling. It seemed so random and out of place, and she couldn't imagine who could have possibly written it, or why. She hesitated, unsure if this was the entrance she really wanted to take.

When suddenly, she realized something huge was falling from the sky.

The next second, the earth shook with an incredible thud as an enormous creature landed on the ground in front of her. She steadied herself, raising her gun in alarm. It was the size of a large building, clearly some type of demon, but unlike anything she had ever seen before. It looked vaguely like a whale, or some other type of sea creature, but much bigger. She wasn't sure she'd be able to deal with a creature of that size, but the good news was that it appeared to be dead. A huge, glassy, red eye stared blankly back at her. She kept her gun aimed, cautiously approaching the beast. Even though it was dead, she didn't know what weird thing could happen next.

The thought had no longer crossed her mind than the beast's red eyeball protruded from its socket, blood spurting around the edges, as if something was pushing it from behind. She jumped back in alarm, startled by the sudden movement. She had been expecting movement, but not from the thing's _eyeball. _She kept her gun aimed steadily at the eye, which continued to jolt and move, as if something behind it was trying to escape. She felt her pulse pounding in her ears. If anything scared her, it was situations in which she was completely clueless as to what was going to happen next.

And then suddenly, a huge tear ripped right through the center of the eye. There really _was _someone behind the eye, she realized with disgust, and it had just sliced its way out with something. The eye had a vertical slit down the middle, and the next moment, in a shower of blood, a figure leaped out, flying over her head and landing behind her. She wheeled around to face it. It was drenched in red. Its back was to her, and it stood and shook its head, trying to clear as much blood out of its silver hair as possible.

Her heart skipped a beat.

_Him._

She felt more anger than fear. He was just the thing she had been hoping not to run into again. She kept her gun trained steadily on his back, not really sure what to do if he attacked, but prepared just in case.

**[II]**

Dante wondered where the hell his life was going as he used Rebellion to hack through Leviathan's enormous eyeball.

Seriously. His life had never been exactly what someone could call "normal", and he was used to dealing with weird things and finding himself in strange situations. Hell, he had become so accustomed to it, it seemed strange when days went by and nothing odd happened. But this whole night was beginning to be too much. Blood spurted up at him as he drove his sword into the gooey orb over and over.

_Thwack._

He had finally reunited with his brother, with the intention of getting rid of him once and for all. But he had been defeated.

_Thwack._

He had been stabbed with his own sword, had his amulet stolen, and been left to die. But then something amazing had happened.

_Thwack._

His blood soaking his own sword had caused something to happen. It had awakened the true powers that the sword held. The true powers that _he _held. He had always felt powerful, a sort of magical energy coursing through his veins that separated him from regular humans, but _this_...he had never felt anything like _this _before. His defeat, the reappearence of his brother, it didn't seem to matter as much anymore as the exhilaration and ecstasy of his newfound abilities thrilled through his body.

And then, as he flew exhilarated through the sky, this demon beast comes along and proceeds to swallow him up.

_Thwack._

So it was back to square one. Being angry again. He had lost whatever traces of happiness had filled him as he had been forced to wander around the thing's giant intestines. He had finally managed to find the heart and effectively kill the beast, which was good news, but then he found himself trapped inside.

_Thwack._

And forced to hack through an enormous eyeball to escape. He would have laughed if it had happened to someone else, but it WOULDN'T have happened to someone else. Shit like this only happened to him.

_Ah, to hell with it._

With one long, forceful blow, he managed to sink his sword deep inside the gooey mass, thrusting downward until there was a slit running all the way through the eye. He could vaguely see the outside world through it. Finally. Bracing himself, he took a step back and launched himself to freedom.

It turned out freedom was pretty bloody. His body got drenched in the beast's disgusting bodily fluid as he gracefully flew through the air, bracing himself for a landing. As he flew, he got a brief glance at his surroundings. Brief as it may have been, one thing caught the corner of his eye as he squinted through the blood.

_Her._

Oh, great. Just what he really, really didn't feel like dealing with. Though earlier he had hoped slightly that he would run into her again, right now the idea really wasn't appealing. He was _not_ in the mood to have some human girl who thought she knew what the hell she was doing shoot him in his extremities. He would prefer that his blood-soaked self be left alone.

So he landed firmly on the ground, the solid earth feeling good beneath his feet. He then stood, steadying himself and shaking his head, his coat, trying to rid himself of what blood he could. Though it was inevitable, of course. The coppery smell of blood was thick in the air, and it wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

He put Rebellion back in its holster, surveying his new surroundings and wondering where the hell he was. It was mostly nondescript; more stairs, another door leading into the tower, blue torches flickering around him...but then something caught his eye. On the wall near him, the word "Welcome" had been written in blood, with an arrow pointing towards the door he was headed to. But that wasn't what caught his eye - what grabbed his attention was the laughing clown face underneath, a face he immediately recognized.

_Jester. _

"So this is the next stage." He stated aloud. Clearly, the clown wasn't finished taunting him. Well, Dante would be damned before he'd let a _clown_ get the best of him. _You wanna play games, circus freak? Well, fine, I'll play along. I'm in the mood to kick some serious ass anyway._

He glanced out of the corner of his eye as he made his way towards the entrance the arrow pointed to, and he could see the girl behind him in his peripheral vision. She had gotten closer to him, and her arm was outstretched. Gun aimed, no doubt. He continued anyway, ignoring her, and he had no sooner taken a few steps than she called out from behind him angrily.

"Wait!"

Damn it all. He wasn't even bothering her! What the hell did she want? _Probably to ask me out, _he thought, only half sarcastically.

"If you're asking for a date..." he began, then wheeled around to face her, smoothly knocking her hand (which was indeed aiming a gun) down and away from his face. She brought it back up to his face just as smoothly, not so much as flinching a muscle. "Forget it." He continued. "'Cause I make it a point not to go out with women who shoot me in the head."

"Date a demon?" She scoffed. "I'm not that desperate. Besides, I really don't care for guys who stink like blood."

Dante couldn't help but smirk slightly. Her voice was cool and composed, not sounding the least bit intimidated. _Hmm. Apparently her tongue is just as sharp as her reflexes._ He was always one to appreciate some good verbal sparring, and the fact that she had responded so coolly instead of screaming obscenities at him (which was what he had expected) made him unable to stay quite as annoyed with her as he had planned.

Though he apparently didn't have time to ponder that, seeing as he suddenly realized there was a swarm of demons approaching from behind her.

He decided to humor her and pretended to sniff himself, as if oblivious to the fact he was covered in blood from head to toe. "Hmm. You're right." He admitted, then whipped out his pistol to shoot the demon that appeared right behind her shoulder.

Quick as lightning, she had thrust her gun over _his _shoulder and was shooting as well. _Huh. Well, apparently we're surrounded._ Temporarily forgetting their enemy status, they turned around and the two stood back to back, working together to take out the demons coming from both ends. However, Dante was more interested in the girl standing behind him than the demons approaching. Killing these lesser beings was about as difficult for him as combing his hair, and he was able to do it without giving it much thought.

"So, tell me!" He called over the bang of gunfire and screech of demon cries. "What's your name?"

"I don't have a name!" She yelled back.

He chuckled. Somehow, that seemed to fit. "Okay. Then what should I call you?"

"I don't care, whatever you want!"

"Whatever, lady."

Well, it had been fun, but it was time to get a move on. Clearly, he'd get nothing more from her, anyway. He skillfully leaped over the Hell Pride in front of him and landed smoothly on the steps by the door Jester had been beckoning him to. He turned back to the girl, who spun around, guns blazing, killing everything in sight.

"I'll leave this to you!" He called back to her. "'Cause I don't wanna miss the party!" He kissed his fingers at her in good-bye, enjoying the pissed off look on her pretty face. He turned and headed for the tower. If she hated demons so much, then good. She'd have plenty to keep her busy - and out of his way - for a while.


	3. Killing Blow

**_Chapter Three - Killing Blow_**

**[III]**

The first thing she saw when she entered the room was the back of his silver head.

She had finally finished taking care of all the demons he had abandoned her with outside. Killing them had been enjoyable, but only for so long. Now it was just becoming tiresome, annoying. It had been a relief when she finally found herself alone once again, and she went through the door he had gone through to find him. Because after all, she had already taken care of all the lesser demons in the area - it was time to go for the jackpot.

_He may look and sound like a human, but he sure as hell isn't. Not to mention he's an obnoxious bastard, _she thought to herself as she went along.

So she had gone into the tower to hunt him down. She had just opened another heavy door, leading into a small room, and her heart almost skipped a beat when she realized she had actually found him, and that he had his back turned to her. He was walking slowly towards the door across from her on the other side of the room, and didn't seem to notice that she had entered. His bright hair was like a bullseye. Perfect target.

Without wasting a moment, she lifted her gun and fired a bullet right into the back of his skull. Or she would have, anyway, if he hadn't tilted his head out of the way just in time, the bullet whizzing past his ear and into the wall.

He turned to face her, and he was grinning. She kept her gun aimed at his face, glaring.

"Well, that was quick." He said, sounding amused and bitter at the same time.

She approached him slowly, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. She was trying to think of her next move when something on the floor behind him caught her eye, and she stopped cold. He had moved over slightly when he turned to face her, and she could see the figure lying on the ground behind him.

She recognized the form.

_No - it can't be - _

Keeping herself composed on the outside, she slowly walked closer to the body, taking her eyes off the demon but keeping her gun aimed at his face. She could feel her heart hammering as her eyes absorbed the stiff, unmoving form, lying on smears of his own blood.

_Father._

The demon had gotten him first. He was already dead. He had just taken away the reason behind her rage, behind all her hard work and preparation. He had just taken away the closure that she desperately needed, the closure that would only come from taking his life with her own hands.

A mix of emotions filled her - despair, anger, disappointment, but most prominent was disbelief. It fogged her mind, her heart.

"That man..." she said slowly."Did you kill him?"

"So what if I did?" The demon taunted.

His voice seemed to cut through the fog, and disbelief was replaced by pure rage. She pulled the trigger, but he easily dodged her bullet. She turned to face him, repeatedly firing at his head, but he dodged every bullet she fired. He spun around, laughing, swinging at her face with his own gun. She leaned backwards, dodging his hand, and thrust her guns at him with renewed vigor. The bastard was clearly _enjoying _himself. He used his guns to smack hers out of the way, effortlessly countering every shot she made. Bullets flew into the walls, the floor, anywhere but at the demon she so desperately wanted to shoot.

"Come on!" He taunted.

She put her arms together, firing both guns at him at the same time, but he used his own arm (which was much stronger than that of a normal man) to push hers up, safely over his head. Her shots drove into the ceiling, sending shards of broken glass raining down around them, and he forced her arms down, leaning over her with a grin on his face.

"Ooh, I _love _a fast woman." He teased.

"Shut up!" She yelled, ripping her arms away from him, blood boiling as she attempted to shoot him again. He grasped her wrist in one hand and spun her around so that they were back to back, then bumped into her, sending her stumbling fowards. She wheeled around, and the two continued to engage in battle, the girl attempting to shoot and the demon easily blocking all of her attacks. The clink of barrels meeting and the bang of gunfire filled the air.

"He was obsessed with becoming the devil!" She yelled, anger coursing through her veins, determined to make the demon see what he had done, make him actually _care_. "So much he killed his own _wife_!"

He swiped at her face with his gun, which she dodged skillfully. She brought her right arm up, gun close to his face, and he pinned her wrist to his shoulder.

"For that he butchered innocent people, too," she hissed, using her free hand to shoot at his face, a shot that he only barely avoided, considering how close they were. He switched arms, using his left to pin her wrist and reaching down with his right, capturing the wrist hanging by her side and bringing it up to his shoulder, effectively pinning her arms down.

"He's the most vile kind of creature," she continued breathlessly, struggling to pull her arms out of his grasp. He let her go, but in the next second she found herself trapped again as she leaped at him. He leaned down and grabbed her thighs, managing to pin them against the back of his neck, one on each side. He spun around, sending her on a few dizzying trips before letting go, both of them flying through the air. She fired at him as they flew in opposite directions, his body spinning in the air like a missile, and the wind was almost knocked out of her as her back slammed against the wall. Her chest was on fire with the effort of breathing now, her back sore from the collision, but she managed to get up from the ground, crouching, and aimed at him, breathing heavy, pure menace on her face.

He landed much more gracefully than her, apparently having missed all of her bullets yet again. Well, not entirely - as he stood, he looked down at his coat. He spread it away from his body, examining it, and she saw that it was filled with bullet holes. He looked over at her a bit angrily, and she snapped, lunging at him, rapidly firing.

_Just one, just _one _has to hit him - _

He leaped over her head, soaring through the air, and she stayed on her knees, following him with her arms, her bullets. He fired back at her as he flew over her head, and the bullets rained down around her, all pinging into the floor. Not a single one touched her body. She wheeled around to face him when he landed behind her, both still aiming at one another. Apparently, none of her bullets had touched his body, either.

Breathing heavily, the sudden silence ringing in her ears as neither of them fired, she stood slowly, lowering her gun as she realized the inevitability of trying to attack him. He lowered his, as well.

"To top it off," she finished, voice traced with raw anger and despair, "that filthy _scum _is my father!"

"Well, we have something in common," the demon said in the same airy voice as before, the one that implied he didn't take her seriously, but he wasn't grinning this time. In fact, he looked rather serious. "I have a dysfunctional family, too."

"And what would you know about family?" She demanded, bringing her gun back up to his face in a fit of rage. He still didn't get it, he still didn't understand. "You're a _demon_! This is _my _father...my family! This was all supposed to end by MY hand!"

He simply stood there, looking at her with hard eyes as she aimed the gun at his face. He didn't move, didn't raise his weapons, simply stood there. His demeanor had suddenly taken a dramatic change from before, when he had been cheering and laughing as she tried to kill him. Now he looked dead serious. She got the feeling if she pulled the trigger, he wouldn't move this time.

But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Slowly, her anger ebbed away, replaced by hopelessness as she realized there'd be no point in shooting him, anyway. It wasn't going to solve anything. Her father was already dead. There would be no closure for her, no hope that somehow, maybe, she could have saved him from himself...

She lifted her finger from the trigger, lowering her gun. She turned around, suddenly finding herself not caring about the demon behind her as she looked down at her father's stiff and lifeless form, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Memories suddenly filled her head, memories of years long past, years that felt like lifetimes ago. Back when she had still been Mary. It hadn't always been this way. Her father had still loved her when she was a little girl. He would hold her and tell her stories, sometimes tuck her in before she went to sleep. So long ago that had been...

_But that was probably all a facade, too, _she realized.

Her throat suddenly constricted as a crushing despair washed over her. She tried to force it back, like she was forcing back the tears peeking around the edges of her eyes, and simply stood there as it threatened to consume her.

"Aren't you gonna shoot?" She heard his maddening voice behind her, but she found herself not caring. He scoffed when she didn't respond. "Well that's a switch."

"Just go," she said quietly, trying to keep the trembling in her voice to a minimum. "I don't care anymore."

She closed her eyes, letting her head drop forward limply. After a moment's hesitation, she heard his heavy footsteps walk away. The door opened and closed, and she found herself alone with her father's corpse.

She inhaled slowly, trying to clear her head, trying not to succumb to the fist that was squeezing her heart. She didn't really think the demon had done it. She didn't know who had. But it didn't really matter. Whatever had delivered the killing blow to him had delivered it to her, as well. His death meant the end of all her planning and preparation. The end of her opportunity to avenge her mother's death. The end of what little hope she had had that she could somehow change him back to the way he had been before.

She didn't know what to do now. The main reason she had come here was to kill him, and now that was already taken care of. She supposed she could go around killing the rest of the demons she came across - her ultimate goal, after all, was to get rid of every last one - but she suddenly didn't feel motivated. Her enthusiasm felt as dead as the man lying in front of her.

_Snap out of it, _she thought. _You have to keep moving. _

But even with this thought, her head stayed bowed and her eyes stayed closed. She'd manage to push away the despair washing over her, she knew. She had always managed before, and she knew she had to go on. She couldn't let the past dictate her future.

But for the moment, she allowed herself to give in, and simply stood numbly, staring at the pools of blood on the cold, unfeeling floor.


	4. Take It Like a Man

**_Chapter Four - Take It Like a Man_**

**[IV]**

"Family, huh?" Dante muttered to himself as he left the girl behind with her father's body.

Right, like he didn't know about family. From the way things sounded, he'd venture to guess his experiences with family were exactly the _same_ as hers. Both had lost their mothers, for one. He had been extremely close to his mother, and he was still bitter to this day about her death. Judging by the girl's rage, he thought it was safe to assume she felt the same way about hers. Dante also didn't have a father, and now, neither did she. And they both had family members they hated, and not in the "they-annoy-me-because-I-have-to-live-with-them" way. In the pure, unadulterated, mortal enemies sort of way.

Hers was her father. His was his twin brother.

And the irony only grew from there - it turned out that their enemies were actually partners with one another, or had been, anyway. Which meant they actually had the _same_ enemies, so she should have technically been on his side. Though he doubted she'd agree with his reasoning if he attempted to explain it to her. Half of the blood in his veins belonged to the demon race, and that was enough reason, in her eyes, to never so much as give him a chance. She had already made that much abundantly clear.

Too bad, though. She could have used his help. She was clearly more than capable of taking care of herself in general - far more capable than most humans, he'd admit it - but if she found out Vergil had been the one to kill her father, she'd undoubtedly go after him. And there was no way in hell she'd survive against Vergil. Hell, _he'd _nearly been killed by Vergil. He was the only opponent who had ever really given Dante a run for his money, and no wonder - the same blood, the same _power,_ coursed through their veins. They were evenly matched.

A human girl, even one as skilled as her, had about as much of a chance of surviving against Vergil as a snowball had of surviving in Hell. He'd run her through within seconds and not so much as give it a second thought, just like he'd done to her dear old dad.

And it _was _Vergil who had done it - Dante was positive. The man hadn't been attacked by a regular demon. It was obvious he had been stabbed cleanly through the gut with a sword. Yamato, if Dante wasn't mistaken, and he was sure he wasn't, considering he'd been stabbed by the same sword himself not too long ago. Not to mention, it'd be so like Vergil to kill his own partner once he wasn't useful anymore. Dante didn't know what had happened between them, but he knew Vergil wouldn't hesitate for a second to eliminate anyone who got in his way. Maybe the old man had been showing signs of betrayal. Or maybe he simply wasn't useful anymore.

Dante could feel anger numbly re-sparking in his heart at the thought. He had no respect for anyone who used people like tools, or regarded murdering humans as being equivalent to squashing flies. Dante killed demons who were trying to wreak havoc on the human world - that was all. If he ever came across a demon like himself that meant no harm, he wouldn't touch it, and he found the idea of butchering humans morally reprehensible. Demons were so much more powerful, even only half-demons like himself. For him to kill even the strongest of human beings would be like a grown man punching a five-year-old in the face for running at him with his tiny fists extended. It just wasn't right. Now, the second they gained any form of demonic power, _then _they were free game. But up until then, no guns or swords allowed.

That's why he had made sure none of his bullets had actually hit the girl when they had been fighting. Her determination to kill him was irritating as hell, but he'd never let a single one of his bullets so much as graze her skin. It just wouldn't be right, despite how annoying and stubborn she was.

But it was more than that, really. Even if he suddenly abandonded morals the way his brother had, he wouldn't want to kill her. Knock some common sense into her, maybe, but when he thought about her, really, he felt more sorry for her than anything else. Annoyed, yes, but dominating everything else was pity. This whole situation had nothing to do with humans, and he didn't want to see her get tangled up in it. Not to mention, despite what she may think, he _did _know what it was like to have a fucked up family, and he had a pretty good idea what she was feeling over the death of her father. He knew, because he felt the same way about his brother.

It was the strangest thing, really. He hated Vergil. He hated everything he represented, everything he did, and everything he stood for. He represented everything Dante tried to fight against. He was going to stop him if it was the last thing he ever did, even if that meant killing him.

But despite the intense animosity between them, the truth was that deep down Dante didn't _want _to kill his brother. What he really wanted was for Vergil to switch sides, for things to be like they had been so long ago, when their mother had still been alive and they had been friends, like brothers are supposed to be. It was a far-fetched, nearly impossible hope, but it was one he stubbornly clung to, even though he knew it would never come true.

He _would _have to kill Vergil someday, he knew. Maybe soon. Maybe tonight. As much as he wanted it the other way, it wouldn't happen. And he also knew that when the day inevitably came, despite how much he hated his brother, it was going to hurt him. It would be the end of all hope that he could be close to his twin again, the end of all hope that he could actually have a family member that was alive and _not _complete scum. Vergil was the only shred of family he had left.

So he knew what she was feeling - relief combined with despair. That's why he had heard her voice trembling as he left, why he had watched hopelessness fill her eyes as she lowered her gun away from his face. Her father was probably all _she _had left, and as much as she hated him, much as she wanted to kill him, she didn't want her hope to die.

Dante sighed, trying to shake off all the depressing thoughts. So what, they both had fucked up lives. Time to get over it. Feeling depressed over his family would only slow him down, and feeling bad for the girl would only distract him. He couldn't allow emotions to make him weak.

With that thought, he suddenly had a flashback to his childhood, back when it had just been him, his mother, and Vergil. His childhood was faded and fuzzy, and he preferred not to think about it anyway, but there were a few bits of it that were still clear in his mind. He remembered how he and Vergil would always get excited when Mom ordered pizza. It was always pepperoni and olives - Dante liked the former, Vergil liked the latter. In present day, Dante scowled at the memory. _Olives. The most disgusting topping ever. That should have been a sign right then. _He could recall with pefect clarity picking olives off of the gooey cheese, scrunching up his face in disgust, and often throwing them at Vergil's head for good measure. Which usually erupted into stupid little fights that were over within the hour.

There had been one time, though, when their fight had lasted longer than normal. The beginning of the memory was fuzzy - Dante couldn't remember exactly what had started it, or how old they were, though he knew they were no older than six - but the rest of it was crystal clear.

The fight had undoubtedly started off as something stupid and pointless, but it had escalated into an argument about which of them was stronger. At such a young age, Dante and Vergil didn't know about their demon heritage, but they did know that they were "special". Different from other children. More powerful. Both, of course, were convinced _they _were the more "special" one, and on a quest to prove it, had ended up wrestling on the floor, punching and kicking at one another with determination. Since the two were evenly matched, no real progress was being made. Finally, after about five solid minutes of going nowhere, Vergil squirmed away from Dante and darted into the kitchen...

_"Hey! Come back here!" Dante promptly leaped up from the ground and ran after his brother, angrily determined to prove his strength. They weren't finished yet. He knew he could beat Vergil, he just knew it..._

_"Come on!" Dante yelled, hot on his brother's trail. "Don't be a baby! Come out and fight like a man!"_

_If a bystander had overheard Dante's cries, they would have laughed. The threat sounded silly and juvenile in the high-pitched voice of a little boy, but in the young ears of Dante and his brother, it was as serious of a threat as could be. _

_He had no sooner uttered his menacing cry then he rounded the corner into the kitchen, and stopped cold as he saw the glittering blade aimed at his face. Vergil stood near an opened drawer, arm extended, firmly grasping the hilt of a carving knife. The look in his cold blue eyes was so deathly serious, even a grown man may have taken the small boy seriously. _

_Dante's stomach plummeted slightly as he narrowly avoided running his face into the sharp tip of the blade. For a moment, he was so caught off guard he didn't know what to do, and the two stood, frozen._

_"That's cheating." He finally said. "You can't use a knife."_

_"Are you scared?" Vergil taunted._

_Dante's eyes went from fearful to cold instantly. "No way! It's just not fair, that's all. If you have a knife, I should get one, too."_

_For a moment, both stood frozen and silent again, Dante glaring with determination, Vergil hesitantly glancing towards the cutlery drawer, arm unwavering. Finally, after a few seconds that lasted centuries, Vergil slowly reached into the drawer behind him, never taking his eyes off Dante. His hand emerged from the drawer with a regular cutting knife. The serated edge looked quite sharp, but it was nothing compared to the carving knife he was holding. Before he could so much as say a word, Dante protested._

_"Hey, no fair! That one's way smaller!"_

_"This is the biggest one that's left."_

_"That's not fair!"_

_"Do you want it or not?"_

_"I want _yours!_" Dante suddenly reached out, attempting to wrestle the hilt of the knife out of his brother's grasp. The two grappled over it for a moment, the sharp edges coming dangerously close to their faces, and when neither could pry it from the other's grasp, Dante kicked Vergil in the shin. He doubled over in pain, and Dante ripped the knife out of his grasp, triumphant. _

_But he had forgotten about the second knife._

_He was so busy being exhilarated by his victory that the last thing he expected was for Vergil to attack with the weaker knife, but that was exactly what he did. In a surge of rage at having been defeated, the young boy unthinkingly lunged foward, the weaker knife in his grasp, and stabbed the hand holding the stolen knife._

_Dante's face went from triumphant to horrified in a split second. The carving knife fell to the floor with a clatter, and he looked down with wide, astonished eyes at the hand that had been holding it, which was stabbed in the palm near the thumb. The knife wasn't protruding from the other side, but it was in pretty deep. A crimson pool bubbled up around the tip and spilled over the blade, down Dante's arm, dripping onto the floor. _

_Both boys stood silent, horrified at what had happened. Vergil looked just as surprised as Dante. Finally, Dante's face scrunched up in pain and he screamed out a name._

_"MOOOM!"_

_"Shhh!" Dante's cry seemed to bring Vergil back to his senses. He hissed at him in a low voice. "Shut up! I'm gonna get in trouble!"_

_"MO - "_

_"Stop it!" Vergil grabbed the knife and pulled it out of Dante's hand, causing him to let out another cry of pain. The wound bled even more freely now. Dante was still staring at his hand in astonishment and horror._

_"See? It's out now." _

_The young Dante's eyes began to well up with tears of anger and pain, though anger was the dominating factor. The stab had been more shocking than painful. In fact, despite a stinging that was pretty strong, the pain wasn't anything unbearable. He grasped the bleeding spot with his other hand, trying to stop the flow of blood, which seeped through his fingers._

_"I'm _telling_!" He wailed. _

_"Don't be such a baby!" Vergil demanded, wanting desperatly not to get in trouble. They had been scolded plenty of times for fighting, but neither had ever done anything this serious before. He shuddered to think of the consequences. _

_"I'm not!" _

_"You are if you tell Mom!" Vergil insisted, still speaking in a fierce whisper. "Why don't you take it like a _man_?"_

_If a bystander had been listening this time, he or she wouldn't have laughed. Despite how young the voice was, there was a certain menace to it. He was obviously playing off of what Dante had yelled at him as he ran towards the kitchen earlier, and it seemed to work. Dante gritted his teeth in pain, with a glare more cutting than the knife that had stabbed him._

_Before Dante could respond, however, Eva ran into the room, having heard Dante's scream from before. When she saw the bloody knife on the ground, as well as her son grasping his hand in pain, she let out a small cry of alarm. _

_"Dante!" She grabbed a dish towel off the counter and kneeled down next to him, taking his wounded hand in hers._

_"Vergil did it!" Dante yelled._

_"It was an accident!"_

_"Was not!"_

_"Was too!"_

_"Was not!"_

_"Was - "_

_The bickering stopped when they looked at Dante's hand. Their mother was gently wiping the blood away with the towel, and once the excess blood was cleared away, they saw that Dante's hand had healed itself. There appeared to be a scratch where the knife had gone through, but that was all, and soon enough that would be gone, too. _

_They boys looked up in amazement, though Vergil's look was more of relief._

_"See? It didn't even hurt him that bad. He was just being a wimp."_

_"You bastard!" Dante yelled in anger, a word that his young mind considered nearly taboo. _

_"Vergil," Eva said sharply, a hard expression on her pretty face, "go to your room, now_. _I will be there in a minute."_

_"But - "_

_"_Now._"_

_Looking a bit scared, Vergil sulked off to his room. Eva put some soothing medicine on Dante's soft flesh, though it didn't really hurt anymore and he got the impression it was just for show. He remembered asking her why it had healed so quickly as she washed the blood from his arm and then the floor, and she had just said what she always said when he asked about why he was different._

_"You're very special, Dante."_

_"How come?"_

_She always sighed in the exact same way, and responded with the exact same answer._

_"You'll understand when you're older."_

Well, Dante was older, and though he had a much better understanding now than he did before, he still didn't really know who he was. He knew that he was half-demon, but beyond that, he still felt like he didn't understand himself at all.

But it didn't matter for the moment. As he passed the ancient walls of the evil tower, all he knew was one thing - no matter who he was, he was going to do what was right. And right now, that involved stopping his brother. He could still hear Vergil's young, pre-pubescent voice taunting him in his head.

_"Why don't you take it like a man?"_

Dante scoffed. He pulled Rebellion out of its holster, grasping the hilt firmly in his hand. That was exactly what he intended to do. Whether the next thing he encountered was his brother, that stupid clown, or a group of the Seven Hells, he was going to take them down.

No more thinking about the past. No more thinking about his family. No more thinking about the girl.

He attempted to push all distracting thoughts away from his mind as he continued on his journey. It was time to get down to business.


	5. Catscratches

**_Chapter Five – Catscratches_**

**[V]**

Every time something bad happened, it felt like something small but sharp had scratched her heart, not doing much damage, but leaving a permanent scar, something that wouldn't devastate her but would never be forgotten. Over the years her heart had been damaged with so many of these little catscratches she was beginning to become immune to them. She was able to shake off small doses of pain, ignore it, deny its existence. It was only when something big happened that she could feel all the scars again, opening up and bleeding, reminding her that they were still there.

But, in time, even the biggest damage could be shoved away. It just took a little longer.

That was what she was trying to do now as she stood near her father's corpse, staring at the door the demon had gone through. The sudden onslaught of emotions that had attacked her moments before were finally beginning to subside, leaving her drained, but with an odd sense of peace. Or perhaps it was apathy. Either way, she was bracing herself for her next move, which involved searching the tower for all the remaining demons. It was the last thing she felt like doing at the moment, but she couldn't allow that to stop her. She had sworn her life over to ridding the world of demons, and that was still what she was going to do. Hell, maybe that was what she _needed _right now.

She was contemplating whether or not she should let the human-esque demon live. Well, in all honesty, she doubted it was even possible for her to kill him, but supposing she actually _could_...would it really be the right thing to do? He hadn't actually been the one to kill her father; upon entering the room she had jumped to that conclusion, but he seemed like he had no clue what was going on. More than that, he didn't seem like he was trying to hurt anyone. Still, she didn't want to let _any _demons live, and she didn't know what he was doing here, anyway -

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a sharp intake of breath come from the floor, and she wheeled around, raising her gun, alarmed.

His eyes opened.

He was moving.

A sort of light-headed jolt washed over her with the realization that he was still alive. Alive but hurt. At her mercy. Considering the grief and shock she had been in moments before over his death, this sudden revelation was almost too much to believe.

His eyes stared blindly up at the ceiling. Blood still dripped from the corner of his mouth, and his voice was hoarse when he suddenly spoke.

"Where am I? It's dark, I can't see anything..."

At the sound of his voice, a familar hatred rose up inside her, and it seemed to bring her back to her senses.

"You're still alive, I see." She said, trying to keep her voice as composed as possible.

"Mary? Is that you?" He seemed genuinely confused. "What's happening? Where's your mother?"

At the mention of her mother, the girl's blood only boiled further. "My _mother_?" She gritted her teeth. "You _killed _her, remember?"

There was the briefest of pauses.

"Yes." He responded. "That's right. I killed her. With my own hands."

Her anger was clouding her vision, making her feel almost feverish with it. Her arms trembled and she struggled to keep her gun held steady, resisting with all her might the sudden urge to throw her gun to the side and just stomp on his head with her boots, stomp on it until it _shattered _-

"What horrible thing have I done?"

Her violent fantasies halted briefly, her face taking on a look of visible confusion. His voice was filled with remorse.

"I was too _weak._ I succumbed to his influence..."

Realization settled in, filling her heart with a hope she didn't dare to believe in, pushing away the anger and outshining it. The secret hope she had been harboring all along, that none of it had been his fault...

"You mean...you were posessed?"

"Ma - " He suddenly choked off as he tried to say her name, gasping sharply with pain, eyes widening. All traces of rage fled her as she dropped her gun and fell to her knees.

"Father?" Her emotions had done a complete reverse, going from absolute hatred to breathless concern. Suddenly, he looked vulnerable. Suddenly, he looked _human. _Suddenly, he looked like her father again, back from when she had been a little girl, before everything had started going to Hell...

His breaths were sharp and shallow, and it was a moment before he turned to look at her and responded. His voice was hoarse and weak.

"Yes, I was manipulated. Manipulated by a devil." He took another sharp breath before finishing, his daughter clinging to his words. "Named _Vergil_."

"Vergil?" She felt dizzy, rushing thoughts rambling through her brain. _Vergil, he must be another one of those humanoid demons, or maybe he's the one from before - _

"He's attempting to bring the demon world back to this modern day." Her thoughts were cut off as she listened intently, grasping his hand in hers. "A world that Sparda once sealed off."

"Sparda?" She suddenly had a flashback to her childhood, back when she had first heard the legend of Sparda, the great Dark Knight who betrayed his own species to save the human world. Her father had been the one to tell her the story, though he told it as if it were a fairy tale. "I thought he was a myth!"

"If the demons return," he continued, ignoring her surprise, "this world will be thrown into chaos! Stop him!" He sounded desperate now and broke off, coughing. She lifted his head, listening to the sound of his labored breathing, and she could feel her eyes filling with tears. She didn't bother to shove them away this time.

"Stop Vergil!" He continued, staring up at her almost pleadingly. The weight of what he wanted her to do settled in on her.

"Me?" Her trembling voice sounded small in her ears, but she didn't care, letting the tears flow freely down her face. He reached a weak hand up and caressed her cheek, and she turned her face towards his hand. It had been so _long _since anyone had shown any love towards her...

"You're such a sweet child..." he murmured, and she looked down, holding back the sob in her throat. His hand left her suddenly and reached towards the ceiling, where warm light was shining down on them through a crevice.

"Just like your mother..."

She looked at his raised hand as he gave one last, shuddery breath, and her blood ran cold when it went limp and fell onto his chest with a soft thud. Her eyes widened.

"Father?"

_No..._

There was no response.

"FATHER!" She yelled desperately, knowing her cries were useless, and with the realization that she had just watched her _real _father, not the monster he had become, die in front of her eyes, she was overwhelmed with an unbearable despair. She slumped foward, letting herself sob freely over his lifeless body, the sadness clouding her heart ten times worse than it had been moments before.

She could hardly see past the tears seeping effortlessly from her eyes, but with trembling hands she managed to reach to the side and pick up the book he had been holding. It was covered in bloodstains, ones that belonged to him. She placed the book on his chest and folded his hands over it. He had managed to redeem himself minutes before his death, and she wanted him to appear to be in peace.

She clutched his stiff hands in hers, head bowed. Her sobs quieted down as she felt her heart begin to thud faster in anger. When depression hit her, it almost always morphed into rage, and as she looked up from the floor, her face was murderous.

"Vergil..."

Her sudden bloodlust filled her with determination, and, wiping her eyes, she stood, firmly grasping the straps of Kalina Ann, and headed towards the door the demon had gone through earlier.

She didn't know who "Vergil" was, but it didn't matter. She imagined he looked human, like that other demon, and violent fantasies filled her head. She didn't care if he was as powerful as the other demon, or even if he was _more _powerful. She was going to _massacre _him. He was going to suffer.

_I don't care how powerful you think you are. You're going to fucking _die.

She would kill him if it was the last thing she ever did. And while she was at it, she would kill that cocky asshole in red, too. She didn't care if she had to fight to the death. Her anger made her feel invincible. She continued on through the hallways in determination, breathing quickly.

She would kill those who were responsible for ruining her life - even if she had to lose it in the process.


	6. Die for You

**_Chapter Six - Die For You_**

**[VI]**

For two people who thought of themselves as so different from one another, they were remarkably similar. At that particular moment in time, their thoughts not only mirrored each other, they were directed towards the same person.

She knew, she just somehow intuitively _knew, _that she was close to finding him. To finding the being responsible for her father's transformation, her mother's death, and effectively, responsible for the fact that she was now an orphan.

Her rage had simmered down just enough for her to think clearly, but it was still enough to make her feel high, invincible. She was walking quickly towards her goal, effortlessly destroying any lesser demons she ran across along the way. Her boots were loud, her breathing was steady, and her thoughts were only on how she was going to kill him. One thought was on repeat in her mind:

_I'll die fighting him if I have to._

**[VI]**

Not too far away, Dante was approaching his destination with resolve, anger resparked by everything that had been happening in the last hour or so. No more mindless searching - he had a location now. Well, sort of. _The control room in the basement, _the clown had said. He didn't know where that was, but at least he had a general direction.

And he had to hurry.

So that was why Vergil had stolen his amulet. Both of them had identical amulets given to them as a birthday gift early on in life by their mother. As far as Dante had always believed, it was just a useless, ordinary trinket, but it had meant a lot to her. "Always keep this safe, Dante", she had said to him. "And never forget how much I love you." It had seemed overdramatic at the time, but Dante had kept it safe nonetheless, hidden away in a drawer. He wasn't much for jewelry, but when his mother had been killed, he began wearing it every day, everywhere, and he hadn't stopped since. Her words gave him an ominous feeling when he thought about them now. _Never forget how much I love you. _As if she knew her murder was only a few years in the future.

Still, as special as the last memento of his mother had become, he had never thought of it as being anything important.

Until now.

Now it all made sense. It _was _just an ordinary amulet by itself, but when combined with its twin, it formed a key, THE key, to unlocking the Demon World. No wonder his mother had warned him to keep it safe.

_Yeah, that tiny detail is just a LITTLE bit important. Would have been nice to know earlier. _If he had known, he would have kept it somewhere else. He wouldn't have worn it to the fight with the very last person who should have the key to the Underworld. The idea that Vergil would want the amulet had never so much as crossed his mind. As far as he knew, Vergil hadn't even cared much for their mother at all.

He had been defeated last time, but he didn't care. He was going to find Vergil, and he was going to stop him before he opened the gates to Hell. This time, he wasn't going to let himself be defeated so easily. Dante was never one to worry about dying, seeing as he was nearly immortal, but if anyone could defeat him, it was his brother, and the thought going through his mind mirrored the thought of the girl who also sought out Vergil's death:

_I'll die fighting him if I have to._

Two minds, one goal, and both were headed in the same direction, to a confrontation nobody could see coming.

**[VI]**

Deep inside Temen-ni-gru, Vergil paced around the floor, unaware that two people who wanted his blood were headed in his direction. Nor would he have cared if he knew, seeing as he was too preoccupied with the small, round hole in the floor in front of him, filled with his warm, recently-shed blood.

Much more calm and level-headed than his brother, Vergil wasn't one to get angry, at least not to the point where he couldn't control it. But he had been standing here for what felt like hours, on edge, _waiting _for something to happen, and nothing did. If there was one thing that tested his patience, it was things not working the way they were supposed to, especially if there was nothing he could do to fix them.

He didn't understand. To seal the entrance to the Demon World away, his father had performed a spell that required the two amulets and his own blood. Therefore, the spell to unlock the Demon World required the same things. He had gotten the two amulets and put them together, and shed enough of his own blood, Sparda's blood, to fill the small hole in front of him. And then he had waited for the rumbling to start, for the barrier between the worlds to break.

But all had remained still and silent, and the worst part was he was entirely clueless as to what he could have done wrong.

"_Why _isn't this working?" He finally demanded out loud, his frustration reaching its peak. "Is there something _missing_? Must more blood be shed?"

"You seem to be in a bad mood."

He wheeled around, recognizing the voice at once. His eyes narrowed, and upon seeing his brother's cocky expression, his anger only increased, though he made concealing it a priority.

"Dante." His hand immediately went to the hilt of Yamato, pulling just enough of the sword out to make it gleam in the light.

"So, my mother's amulet is the key that unlocks the door to the Demon World." He walked towards Vergil slowly, shaking his head, eyes studying the strange markings on the ground surrounding the small pool of blood. He seemed like he wanted to reach down into the blood and take back the amulet, but seeing Vergil in a defensive position, ready to unsheathe his sword, he thought better of it. "Good plan, Pop." He said to the ceiling sarcastically.

"Just the opposite, actually." Vergil informed him, keeping his voice cool and composed. "Originally it _was _the key to the Demon World, but was given to humans as a gift."

Dante walked around, surveying the room, daring to turn his back to his brother.

"It doesn't matter to me one way or the other." He said casually, but suddenly his voice had taken on an edge of menace. "More importantly, I've come all this way."

He turned to face Vergil again, his face a weird combination of a carefree grin and hard, serious eyes. He slowly pulled his sword out of its sheath, extending his arm and pointing it at Vergil.

"I'm sure you have time for one more game, right?" He taunted.

Vergil pulled Yamato further out of its sheath, the metallic sound ringing throughout the room, signifying that he was more then ready for a fight. But then he shoved it back in, remembering his newfound Devil Arm, the one he had gotten from that beast upon first entering the control room.

"Why not?" His voice took on the same tone as Dante's, casual but with malevolent undertones. "After all, we share the same blood. I'll just use more of _yours _to undo daddy's little spell."

He brought his arms up in front of him defensively, hands bunched up into fists, feeling the power flow through him as the Beowulf gauntlets lit up on his arms, his legs. Dante held Rebellion in the air, inspecting the sword in a casual manner, completely unintimidated by Vergil's new weapon.

"So, you want a piece of me literally." He brought the sword down, readying himself to fight. "Okay, bro," He taunted darkly. "Come and get it...if you can."


	7. Sadomasochism

**_Chapter Seven – Sadomasochism_**

**[VII]**

Blades clashed, guns fired, voices shouted, and blood dripped. The floor beneath their boots was saturated with it, stained crimson with the blood of the two sons of Sparda. Both were hurt, bleeding, panting, sweating, but neither stopped. They ran, they struck, they dodged, they danced through the blood lining the ground.

When she finally found them, this was the state they were in.

She was so amazed to have actually found him that for a moment she couldn't act, just taking in the situation. The demon in red was fighting what appeared to be another human man, but it couldn't be clearer based on his intense skill that he wasn't human, either. They looked remarkably similar, in fact - both pale, with white hair and piercing blue eyes. They must have been related - after all, how many humanoid demons could there be? With white hair, no less?

The other one was Vergil. He _had _to be. No regular demon could have been advanced enough to manipulate her father, make him do all the horrible things he did. If she had been feeling more logical, she would have noticed that, since the demon in red was fighting him, he was actually someone she should be allying with. But her anger was still the dominant force driving her, overpowering all her other senses.

She watched as they joined in the middle of the room, striking at one another at the same time. Swords clashed, and their bodies shook with the effort of trying to force past the other one, their eyes murderous. They didn't notice her standing there, didn't realize she had entered the room. Wasting no more time, she whipped Kalina Ann from her shoulders and fired a missile, aiming for the demon clad in blue. Her timing was perfect. The moment she fired the demon in red sprang away from his brother, and the glowing missile was headed directly for Vergil, no obstacles in the way.

Unfortunately, their timing was better. Dante slashed his sword, slicing right through the oncoming missile, and Vergil slashed down mere moments before it would have struck him in the face. The missile fell in pieces to the ground, useless. She should have felt fear then, should have realized it was suicide to try and attack someone who could slice a moving missile with a sword. But the next moment they both turned to look at her. Vergil looked at her with cold eyes, seeming to recognize who she was, but he didn't seem affected by her presence. Dante, whose face was already contorted in anger, only looked angrier still when he saw that she was in the room.

"Sorry, but this is no place for a little girl." He growled breathlessly, turning away to face his brother. "So beat it."

"Shut up!" She yelled, anger overriding any momentary glimmer of fear. She fired a missile at him. _Might as well kill them both while I'm here. _He dodged the rocket easily enough and the two of them continued to engage in fierce battle, swords moving faster than her eyes could keep up with. She would have to get closer if she wanted to hit Vergil.

She ran up towards the fighting brothers, her eyes locked on the one in blue. _Let's see if he can dodge a missile if the barrel is pressed up against his chest! _She pointed the launcher directly at him, prepared to pull the trigger once it was inches away from his skin, but then suddenly she found herself spinning, knocked violently away from him before she could so much as pull the trigger. Disoriented, it took her a moment to realize he had knocked her launcher away with his sword, and her firm grip on the weapon had sent her spinning. The force he had knocked her away with was incredibly strong, and he wasn't finished - when she faced him again, he struck at the launcher again, and the blow sent her off her feet. She flew briefly through the air, clutching the launcher, and landed roughly on the ground. She rolled onto her back just in time to see him leap through the air, coming towards her, ready to slice her in half with his sword.

Fear briefly pulsed through her as she saw him coming. The other demon slashed at his brother's outstretched sword, trying to drive him back, but this only made him spin briefly in the air as he continued towards her. She held up the launcher in self-defense, and if she could have breathed at all, she would have breathed a sigh of relief when his sword clanged into the launcher, which she held away from her body like a shield.

She looked at him standing above her, cold blue eyes drilling into hers. The two were definitely related - their eyes were exactly the same. He was pressing his sword against the launcher, and her arms trembled as she struggled to keep it held away from her body. Her chest was on fire, and she could hardly breathe, but somehow she managed to form words.

"You forced him into this!" Her voice was trembling, both from anger and the strain of resisting his strength. His face was calm as he looked down at her, a juxtaposition to her flushed and trembling form.

"Is that what you think?" His quiet voiced matched his demeanor, calm and composed. He shook his head at her. "Foolish girl."

She looked up at him, confused, but before she could get more information, the other demon crashed into him and the two resumed their battle. She quickly got up, still holding the launcher, and regained her breath as she watched the fierce battle. She suddenly didn't feel like firing as doubt plagued her heart.

Had her father been lying about being possessed? Vergil had no reason to lie to her; it was clear she couldn't hurt him, anyway. The uselessness of trying to harm either of them combined with the doubt that he had done anything to her father at all caused her to hesitate, and she simply stood, listening to the shouts and clangs coming from the two brothers battling it out.

Dante slashed Vergil across the chest, flinging more blood onto the ground, and a second later Vergil returned the same blow. Both fell to the ground, breathing heavily, and for a moment there was no sound except for their labored breaths.

And then suddenly, they all heard it - a slow, steady clapping noise. She tensed at the sudden sound, indicating a fourth presence in the room, and turned her head slowly towards the noise.

"Bravo! Bravo!" A voice called, and she turned to see none other than a purple clown standing not too far from where she was, clapping his hands. His nose was abnormally long and pointed, face covered in white make-up. Her initial reaction was alarm - she couldn't even begin to _think _of anything she had expected to see less - but then she remembered the welcome sign she had seen a while ago on the side of the tower, with the picture of the clown face underneath. It was the same guy.

"I never DREAMED that things would go so smoothly!" He continued, his voice light and whimsical. "Well done, everyone! Well done!"

"You..." she heard the demon in red growl from behind her.

She turned to face the clown, and he immediately grabbed her launcher and wrenched it closer to himself, catching her off guard and dragging her along with it. His hands had long red fingernails, more like claws than anything else, and he flicked a tongue at her that was long and purple. Disgusted and a bit frightened by his strange appearance, she tried to pull her launcher out of his grasp, but he only pulled her closer.

"Don't be a bad girl, Mary." He said in a low voice, and before she had a chance to wonder how he knew her name he had flipped the launcher into the air with a strength that was remarkable for a creature so scrawny, effectively throwing her off the end as she tried to hold on tightly. She flipped through the air and landed hard on her stomach, head thudding against the floor. The wind was knocked out of her, and she struggled to breathe as her head throbbed so hard the edges of her vision dimmed, ears ringing. It felt like someone had crushed her ribs. She lay immobile on the floor, gasping for breath.

"Or you can expect a _spanking _from daddy later!" She heard the creepy voice behind her, and she cringed against the floor as he actually began to sing. "Jester's gonna spank your butt, spank you on the bu - "

"Insane buffoon!"

His song was suddenly cut off by a voice she recognized as Vergil's.

"I don't know where you came from but you DON'T belong here. Now _leave_!"

She felt the vibrations in the floor as he ran towards the man, and for a moment she was actually relieved that he was there, that he would get rid of this stupid clown thing. She had time to wonder who he was, if he wasn't associated with Vergil, when the footsteps suddenly stopped...but there was no sound of collision. She heard Vergil's surprised gasp.

"Zowie, that was close!" She felt a chill as the clown spoke again, and she wanted to turn her head around to see how he had stopped Vergil's blade, but she was just beginning to breathe again and she couldn't manage it, so she merely listened. "But you've taken quite a trouncing today, haven't you, Vergil? You could've chopped me into confetti by now if you were in tip-top condition!"

"Damn you!"

"You have lost..."

The next second Vergil went flying backwards, and she watched as he skidded across the floor and finally came to a stop far away, coughing. She briefly felt fear. If this thing could do that to Vergil, what could it do to _her_?

And then it spoke again in a different voice, one that nearly made her heart stop.

"...because you underestimated humans."

A clammy sort of surprise washed over her. She'd know that voice anywhere. Ignoring the pain in her chest, which had lessened anyway, she managed to sit up enough to turn around, and sure enough, it was who it sounded like. Her father stood there calmly, staring icily at Vergil. The clown had disappeared. Utter confusion played through her mind.

"What's going on?"

The man looked down at her, still calm. Their eyes met, and his were cold, emotionless. She searched them desperately for any trace of love, for the way they had looked when he she had watched him die, but there was none to be found. "Good girl..." he murmured."Pure and innocent...just like your _mother_."

So much fury shot through her at the mention of her mother she ignored her confusion that he was still alive, that he was apparently still evil, and that the clown was nowhere to be seen. She ripped her gun from its holster, ready to put a bullet through his skull.

"You _bastard_!"

But suddenly, there was only empty air where she aimed. Before she could wonder where he went, a hand firmly grabbed the top of her head and forced it back, far enough for her to see the face of her attacker. It was the clown again, his long nails hanging in her face, and from this close up she realized with a jolt that he had multi-colored eyes. One brown. One blue. Just like her father. Just like _her_.

"It's time for your spanking, my dear." He murmured, and before she could so much as raise her gun, he lifted her upper body far from the ground, pulling by her hair, and the next moment he slammed her head so hard into the ground she briefly thought it was going to kill her. She almost blacked out, nausea and dizziness overtaking all her senses as her head pounded with sharp pain. Her body felt limp, weak, and she drifted on the edge of consciousness, unable to do anything except lie on the floor, moaning softly. Despite everything he had ever done, she still felt betrayed and amazed that her own father would hurt her like this.

_How could he do this to me..._

"You want to know why the spell didn't break, hmm, Vergil?" She heard the voice of the clown, her _father, _above her, and was relieved when his hand lifted from her head and he began walking away from her. Maybe he was done with her. "You have the two amulets, and Sparda's blood. You had everything you needed to unleash the evil..."

"I told you before!" The voice that cut him off now belonged to the other demon, the one in red. She found herself actually relieved to hear his voice. Much as she wanted him dead, it was clear he wasn't as corrupt as his brother, and he was strong. Maybe he'd have better luck. "I don't like anybody that has a bigger mouth than _mine_!"

The next moment she heard gunfire, the click of shells hitting the ground magnified in her ear, which was pressed up against the floor. But the constant, steady stream wasn't a hopeful sound - it meant he was missing his target. Sure enough, she heard the clown's voice again.

"You are wounded and weak, hahaha! Even I can do - " The next second the gunfire stopped, and she felt his presence leaping over her at an unearthly height. The next second there was a loud thud and a groan as the demon fell to the ground. She managed to turn her head enough to see that the clown had stomped on his face, slamming his head into the ground. The demon's body lay limp on the floor, and she felt alarmingly sorry for him. " - THIS to you!" He finished, breaking into maniacal laughter.

Fear sparked the edges of her heart. She couldn't handle him alone, especially weak as she was right now, and both demons were out for the count.

"Two amulets." Her father's voice suddenly cut across the clown's laughter, and once again the clown disappeared, replaced by the cold figure of her father. She heard footsteps, and she realized with dim horror that he was walking towards her. "A set of Sparda's blood. Now, I need one more key."

She wasn't a girl who was frightened easily, but fear suddenly overtook her heart with a clammy fist. He was coming for her, there was no one to defend her, and she wasn't in a position to defend herself. He wasn't even going to kill her, her brain (which felt like it was drifting in and out of consciousness) informed her. He was going to hurt her first. It was clear he got pleasure from causing them pain, like some kind of sadomasochist, feeding off of the torment of others.

She didn't even have the energy to squirm away from him, but she tried, and the next moment she realized with another pulse of fear that Kalina Ann was missing. He had taken her rocket launcher. She couldn't see him anymore, but he spoke again, and she knew he was standing right next to her.

"He sacrificed two things to supress the tremendous force of this tower: his own devil's blood, and a mortal priestess."

Suddenly, with no warning, there was nothing but utter agony in her thigh. She cried out, jerking up from the ground, and she realized with horror that he used the rocket launcher's blade to stab her. Burning pain the likes of which she had never known shot through her leg, overpowering all her other senses. The blade was sharp enough to cut into stone, if enough pressure was applied; the one fortunate thing was that he hadn't used much of his own strength. But the blade was in deep; she could feel the cold metal _inside _her, inside the tender flesh of her thigh, and she felt her own warm blood spilling out, flowing at a sickening rate, emptying from where the blade violated her flesh and pooling around her on the floor. White orbs danced in front of her eyes, her ears ringing so loudly she almost missed his words as she shuddered on the ground, struggling to stay conscious.

"I needed you, in whose body flows the same blood as the sacrificed woman." His voice was deep, menacing, without a trace of empathy. He sounded hungry. He _was _feeding off their pain, _her_ pain. "His spell cannot be undone without your blood!"

In the next instant, his voice switched back to voice of the amused clown, juxtaposing Arkham's cold menace.

"It was quite a ride, you know!" Without warning, he ripped the blade out of her thigh, and she cried out as it pulled against her flesh. The blood streamed even more freely through the open wound - she could feel a warm pool of it against her thigh - and for a brief moment she was convinced she this was the end, she was going to bleed to death right here on the ground.

"If any of you had died before getting here, our little plan would have gone to waste!" He continued. "Hah! Therefore, my job was to make you battle each other in order to weaken you!"

Slowly, she could feel hate fighting through the pain and the fear. Her hands curled into fists, strengthening, and her hopelessness was replaced by determination.

_Will die fighting if I have to..._she reminded herself, and she was determined not to die so easily.

"But at the same time," he continued. "I had to guide you here and make sure that you were kept alive. I even went so far as dressing like a complete _idiot_! Hahahahahaha!"

Suddenly, she could sense his presence leaning over her again, and his voice was close to her ear, low with menace.

"It's time for bed, Mary."

He was going to kill her. She needed a plan -

"You can visit your _dear _mother!"

He laughed like a lunatic who had escaped from the asylum, once again relishing in her pain, in the idea of sending his own daughter to her grave, just like he had done to his wife. She realized he was distracted, leaning onto her launcher, which was propped against the ground.

It was now or never.

She swung out with her good leg, kicking Kalina Ann from out of his grasp, and she managed to stand, ignoring the blood dripping into her boot, the screaming protest in her leg. She caught the launcher and held it firmly in her grasp, aiming at him.

"Whoa!" He looked surprised, but still amused. All the same, her sense of triumph gave her strength.

"Try me." She said coolly.

And then she wasn't alone anymore - the demons approached from behind him, one on each side, and both pointed their swords at him. She had the launcher aimed at his chest from the front, and the swords surrounded him from the back. For a moment, just a moment, the demons were on her side. She was glad for their presence, glad she wasn't alone against the monster her father had become.

"It's time for the clown to bow out, Arkham." Vergil said smoothly.

"Dude." The other demon said angrily. "The show's over."

And for just a moment, although on edge, she had all the confidence in the world. Three against one were good odds, and each of them was equally determined, equally willing to fight. She breathed heavily, steadying herself on her weakened leg, ready to pull the trigger, impale him with the blade he had used to stab her, whatever it took. She waited for someone to make the next move, ready to attack, determined to make sure _he_ would be the next one to feel pain.


	8. Whipped

**_Chapter Eight – Whipped_**

**[VIII]**

She watched as the clown's form changed right before her eyes. Suddenly, quicker than the blink of an eye, she found herself aiming the launcher at her father instead of the clown. He looked around calmly at the three of them that surrounded him.

"Impressive." He said, without the slightest trace of fear or defeat. "I expected nothing less from the devil's descendents."

She glanced at the demon in red. His face was more serious than she had seen it yet, glaring at the man, mouth curved into a snarl. So the two _were _brothers - twins, it looked like - and not only that, but they were the sons of the legendary Sparda, the one she had believed didn't exist until recently.

"But aren't you forgetting something, Vergil?" He continued. "The spell is broken."

As if on cue, she heard a grating noise behind her as a long shaft slid up through the floor. She wanted to turn around and see what was happening, but she didn't dare to turn her back to him.

"What do you think will happen next?" And then he grinned. "Let's welcome chaos."

Suddenly, the strange markings on the floor beneath their feet turned a bright red, and the room trembled like an earthquake. The platform they stood on began to rise. The ceiling and walls crumbled, sending debris falling down around them, and she struggled to stay on her feet as the floor quaked.

He was going to get away.

Simultaneously, all three lunged foward, the demons slashing with their sword, the girl thrusting with the blade of the rocket launcher. But he had disappeared out of sight, their weapons meeting only each other, and the next moment all three fell, their feet having been kicked out from underneath them. He had crouched down low, and before she hit the ground, she watched as he kicked Vergil, sending him crashing into Dante, and the next moment, the two demons smashed into her. The blow was like a canonball, and all three of them went flying off of the steadily rising tower, separating along the way.

For the third time that day, she felt her body slam roughly into the ground, but she managed to brace herself as much as possible. She let the shock course through her body, the agony pulse through the gash in her leg, and for a moment lied still.

"Just sit and wait." She heard his voice from above. Dizzy, she stood up slowly. He was standing at the edge of the tower, looking down at her. "Wait for the birth of a new god! I shall take over the power of SPARDA!"

He laughed at the ceiling, laughter that was filled with a sadistic joy, as the tower rose up and out of sight. She backed away from it slowly, trying to see him, but he was too far above her head. They had failed; all three of them had failed. He had outsmarted them, outfought them, whipped his leg underneath them when they attacked and knocked them off their feet.

He had won.

The floor continued to tremble underneath her feet, and suddenly, as she took a step backwards, it crumbled away. The floor fell from beneath her very feet. With a cry, she fell over the edge, and there was nothing but terror in her body as she plummeted toward the void.

After all that, she was still going to die.

_NO - _

Something caught her outstretched hand.

She looked up, right into the face of the demon in red. He was firmly grasping her wrist, and relief flooded through her, along with surprise. He had saved her life. She knew she wouldn't fall. She had a flashback to the last time he had caught her falling into a near-bottomless void, and recalled how she had looked into his eyes and they were laughing at her, dancing with amusement.

His eyes were hard now, serious. He didn't look like an immature, cocky bastard anymore. He looked older. Mature, even. His face was as serious as could be.

Wordless, he held onto her as she dangled over the side of the cliff, the tower still rising, debris still falling, the laughter of her father still ringing in her ears.


	9. Black and Blue

**_Chapter Nine - Black and Blue_**

**[IX]**

Dante couldn't believe he had been beaten by a clown. This had to be a new low for him.

Well, it wasn't just a clown, he tried to convince himself. It was a human who had clearly gained demonic power, which was the only thing to explain his advanced strength and new shape-shifting ability. But still, it felt like a new low. Dante didn't take being defeated very well.

He had actually stopped caring about Vergil for a second, had actually felt like he was on his brother's side, along with that girl - Mary, her father had called her. The three were united temporarily, working as one to take down a common foe.

And they had all failed.

As the tower began to shake and the floor lit with bright red, Arkham had flung his brother at him, and the force drove him into the girl, sending the three of them falling off of the steadily rising tower and into the hard floor below.

He had to admit as he stood, dusting himself off and listening to that stupid asshole's laughter from high above his head, he was pretty sore. Not even close to as sore as he'd be if he were human, but still. That bastard had slammed him into the ground pretty good before, not to mention his brother had given him quite a beating, one he had returned. They hadn't gotten to finish their fight. Vergil probably wasn't feeling too great right now, either, but he would recover. Dante was going to have to find him again. They weren't finished.

Of course, Dante thought, staring up at the tower (the top of which had disappeared by now), now they had another problem.

He fluffed out his red jacket as debris crumbled around him, shaking dust away from himself. His bones were still slightly sore, muscles strained, and he was thankful once again that he wasn't human. At that thought, he suddenly felt sorry for the girl, realizing how much pain she must be in. He thought _he _was sore. At least he hadn't been stabbed in the leg. By his _father_. Damn, that had to suck.

He had felt guilty for not helping her throughout the whole ordeal, possibly because she was the only human among three demons, but there hadn't been anything he could do. He had done his best to keep Vergil away from her - it wasn't _her_ battle, after all, no matter how much she thought it was - but he had been too weakened to protect her from her father. Hell, he had his hands full trying to protect _himself. _That fucking bastard.

_Wait...where is she?_

The three of them had been separated when they fell, and he couldn't see her or his brother. He looked around, and after walking a few feet, he spotted the girl around the corner of the tower. She was managing to stand, somehow, and he found himself wondering if she really _was _human. The back of her leg was entirely covered in blood, seeping from the gash in her thigh, running over her boots, even. But she didn't even seem to realize as she backed slowly away from the tower, staring up towards the top.

She also didn't seem to be aware that the floor was beginning to crumble from beneath her feet.

_Shit._

Somewhat instinctively, he ran towards her, quick as lightning. He reached her just as the floor gave away and she fell with a small cry. Falling to his knees, he slid fowards and grabbed her wrist firmly, catching her just in time.

She looked up at him, surprise all over her face, and for a split second he caught the fear in her eyes as she had been convinced she was going to fall. It went away and was replaced by relief, and he found himself feeling a small sense of triumph. He had felt so defeated in the last few minutes, it was nice to do something _right_, to have a small sense of accomplishment.

For a moment he just held her as the world rumbled around them, waiting for the earthquake to stop before he lifted her up to ensure he didn't lose his grip. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, and for once she looked rather vulnerable. The juxtaposition of the two colors in her eyes really stood out - one blue, one brown. Just like her father. He noticed for the first time that she had a small scar across the bridge of her nose, and vaguely wondered where it came from.

She looked away from him, struggling to find a place to grab on the side of the cliff with her free hand. Her other hand reached up and clasped around his wrist, holding on tightly. Dante's eyebrow raised a little bit. No rude comments, no dirty looks, even. She just grasped his hand tightly and kept her gaze focused on the wall of the cliff. A sign that she was growing to trust him, maybe?

_Hmm...maybe we're actually getting somewhere._

A moment later, the floor finally stopped rumbling as the tower reached its peak, far too high for them to see. Everything was quiet in the sudden stillness, and he leaned back, pulling her up the cliff to safety.


	10. Hospital

**_Chapter Ten – Hospital_**

**[X]**

She grasped his wrist tightly as he began pulling her up. The world had finally stopped shaking and everything felt a bit steadier. She grasped the edge of the cliff with her free hand, struggling to pull herself up further, and he reached down and grabbed her other wrist, pulling her onto solid ground with ease.

She instinctively wanted to lash out at him, say she didn't need any additional help, but she thought better of it. Considering he really_ had _saved her life this time, he didn't deserve to be bitched at for trying to help. She'd be dead if it wasn't for him right now, after all. Besides, her throbbing leg needed her immediate attention, and she really wasn't in the mood to argue. She felt like she was going to pass out any minute.

They both slid back onto the floor, and she scooted far away from the cliff's edge, leaning her back against the cursed tower. She left a trail of blood along the way, and she realized she felt like she was going to pass out because she had lost an alarming amount. She needed to deal with her wound _now_, or she was going to die. Fortunately, one of the things she had brought along in her makeshift skirt - which was really just a bunch of convenient pockets stuck together - was medical supplies.

There was an almost horrifying amount of blood covering her leg, and she realized she could feel it sloshing beneath her sock in her boot. She couldn't stop herself from groaning out loud. _So much blood..._

The demon had stood up next to her, towering over her, but she ignored him, didn't even look at him. She fumbled around her skirt, searching for the pocket that contained medical supplies. One contained a big, thick roll of gauze, which she pulled out, and the other contained small tubes of various anti-bacterial ointments. That was all she had. _Damnit, why didn't I bring more? _What, had she thought she was invincible? Maybe so, considering she had never been hurt too badly by demons before, but she wasn't on a regular demon-hunting mission. She was on a mission to kill her father, who wanted to take over the world, and clearly had demonic power now. She should have taken more precautions.

Well, first things first, anyway. She needed to stop the bleeding. She could hardly believe she still had more blood to shed, after all the blood she had already lost, but it still continued to slowly seep its way out of her leg. She quickly unrolled the gauze and pressed a thick wad of it over the gash, pressing down hard. Soon the material was almost entirely soaked through, and she cursed, unrolling more and pressing it hard against her thigh, desperate to clot the blood before things got more out of control than they already had. She grimaced.

The demon, who had been standing about a bit awkwardly and looking at the tower, suddenly slid down onto the floor, casually sitting next to her. She felt a bit nervous being so close to him, but she continued to ignore him. She could feel him eyeing her wound.

"You know, it'll stop bleeding faster if you elevate it." He finally informed her, and before she could so much as glare at him, he had suddenly slid in front of her, and he grinned. "Allow me," he said, voice back to the flirtatious arrogance she was much more used to. He suddenly cupped his hands around her knee, which was bent, straightening out her leg and taking it into his lap. She immediately protested, trying to wrench her leg out of his grip, but keeping her hands wrapped firmly around her thigh.

"Hey! Let go!" She demanded indignantly, and felt her cheeks warm slightly as his eyes glanced over her shapely legs, apparently not minding the bloodstains, and even darted for just a split second beneath her skirt and in between them. She was eternally grateful she had decided to wear spandex shorts underneath.

"What? I'm just trying to help." He said innocently, though he was still grinning like a young boy caught spying on the girl's locker room.

"I don't need your help." She said haughtily, even though she knew he was actually right - keeping it elevated _would _help.

He scoffed in a way that was half amused and half annoyed, looking back up at her face. "So that's the thanks I get for saving your life twice in one day?"

She held his gaze steadily. "You only saved it _once_. I was fine by myself the other time."

"Whatever you say, lady. But y'know, the least you could do is say 'thank you'."

"Fine, thank you. Now let go of my leg."

"Not until you say it like you mean it." He teased.

"Let go." She said firmly, staring him hard in the eyes.

He shrugged, innocently setting her leg back on the floor. "Fine, if you really want to bleed to death, by my guest." He slid away from her legs and resumed his position leaning against the tower, a few feet away from her. He rested his arm against his bent knees.

She pulled the gauze slightly away from the wound, examining it. The cloth was quite soaked, but the blood flow appeared to be slowing. _Finally. _"See?" She glanced over at him. "It's already stopping."

He didn't respond, just watched as she continued treating the wound in her makeshift hospital. There wasn't much she could do to sterilize it, seeing as there wasn't exactly a place to wash it anywhere nearby, but she did the best she could with the soothing ointments, smoothing them over and around the cut in an attempt to eliminate whatever germs and potential infection she could. Dante watched wordlessly as she carefully smoothed her fingers around the deep gash, wincing every so often.

"That really should get stitches." He finally informed her matter-of-factly.

She looked up, glaring at him. "Gee, let me just reach into my back pocket and pull some out." She stated with cold sarcasm.

Dante scoffed again. "If you were smart you'd leave and get to the nearest hospital."

She continued treating the wound, not looking at him. "If you were smart you'd mind your own business." Seemingly satisfied that she had done all she could, she began unrolling fresh gauze, getting ready to use it as a tourniquet. "Like you'd know anything about that, anyway." She mumbled. Someone who could take two bullets to the head and be perfectly fine didn't exactly need to take frequent trips to the doctor.

He glared at her as she began wrapping her wound, but didn't say anything. Both were silent for a moment as she wound the bandages around her thigh, until finally Dante interrupted.

"So your name's Mary, huh?"

Her hands froze in mid-wrap, and she looked up at him with eyes colder than he had been expecting.

"Don't _ever _call me that." Her voice was harsh. "_Ever_."

Dante merely shrugged, looking away. "Fine. Whatever you want, Lady."

Both seemed to realize at that moment that his little pet name for her seemed to now have a capital letter. The way he called her it made it seem as though it were her real name. But neither said anything.

When she was almost done securing her injury, he stood with a sigh, walking a few feet away from her, looking up at the tower. When she was satisfied with the bandages, she tied them securely and then put her remaining supplies back into her pockets, which she clasped tightly shut. She stood slowly, leaning against the tower for support, and winced as sharp pain shot through her damaged leg. But after a few moments of standing on it and taking a few experimental steps, the pain had faded away to a dull throbbing, which she could handle just fine.

She glanced suspiciously at the demon, who was turned away from her, and decided to ignore his presence and move on. She leaned down and lifted the heavy weight of her rocket launcher, adjusting the straps on her shoulders once again. She didn't really feel like killing the demon anymore; he was annoying as hell, but he didn't seem bad, necessarily. Of course, she couldn't wrap her brain around the idea that a demon existed who was actually _good_, but for now she didn't really care about him. She followed his gaze, looking to the top of the tower.

At the moment, it was her father's death she was more concerned about.


	11. Bandages

**_Chapter Eleven – Bandages_**

**[XI]**

She wandered around the side of the tower, eyes trying in vain to reach the top. She had a long journey ahead of her, and she wanted to estimate about just how long it was going to take. She had to scale this thing; her father was at the top, and she was going after him. It wasn't going to be easy, especially since she wasn't in the greatest condition, but it was what she had to do. She didn't care if it took all night. She would do it if it killed her.

The demon was taking slow, casual steps behind her, following her. She had decided to ignore him, pretend he wasn't there unless he said something first, but she could feel his eyes watching her and it was unnerving. She wasn't really angry at him anymore - he didn't have to save her life, after all - but just because he wasn't scum didn't mean he wasn't still a demon, regardless of how human he looked. She was willing to let him live (_not like you could kill him anyway, _a voice in the back of her head admitted), but that didn't mean she wanted to hang around him. Okay, maybe he was a little intriguing - a demon that wasn't _all_ bad was something she had never seen before - but that didn't mean that his presence didn't still unnerve her.

She scanned the side of the tower with her eyes, mentally planning her course of action. She would use Kalina Ann's hookshot to scale this thing. It didn't matter how long it took - the need for revenge burned strong in her heart.

"Are you gonna go?"

She didn't take her eyes off the tower, didn't bother to look at the demon as he finally spoke. "Yes. I'm going to finish him off."

"Well, you might as well forget it, 'cause you're no match for him."

She couldn't bring herself to feel angry at his somewhat demeaning comment, maybe because she secretly knew it was true. "Regardless, I must go." She responded. "I had a chance to stop him before, but I couldn't. I'm responsible for all this mess." A heavy weight seemed to settle on her as she said the words, the words she had been thinking but had yet to speak aloud. It was true; if only she hadn't fallen for his game when he was pretending to love her, if only she had seen past his lies...her guilt was one of the main factors driving her motivation.

"Responsible," the demon stated, taking a step closer to her. "Does it bother you _that _much?"

She finally turned to look at him, looking him hard in the eyes, which were back to being cold and serious. It was amazing, really; he had two very distinct personalities, and he switched between them more often then a certified schizophrenic.

"He's my _father. _Besides, who else can undo what he's done?"

He didn't say anything to that, simply stayed where he was as she readied the hookshot, hoisting it onto her shoulder, taking aim, and releasing the blade. It flew high above their heads and sunk deeply into the side of the tower. She gripped the launcher tightly, and turned to look at him one last time before she left.

"A demon like you wouldn't understand."

Leaving him with that, she pushed the button that sent her flying upwards, holding on tightly, and soon she had disappeared from his gaze.

Dante stood for a moment, glaring in the direction the girl had gone, feeling more than a little pissed. Damn her, she _always _managed to piss him off. She was just so ignorant. Sure, most demons were shit without an ounce of human compassion, but she didn't have to assume all of them were automatically that way. What about _her _race? A lot of humans were shit, too, but that didn't mean they were all bad. Likewise, some demons actually had a heart to do what was right. If him saving her life hadn't snapped her out of her stubbornness and convinced her of that, nothing would.

_A demon like you wouldn't understand._

Despite everything he'd done to show otherwise, she was still convinced that at the end of the day he was just a heartless demon, destined for an evil and emotionless life.

"Father and family, huh?" He muttered. He had never known his father - he couldn't remember him, anyway - and for this he had always felt some bitterness towards him. But the fact was that his father was a full demon, and he had had enough of a heart to rebel against his own kind for the sake of the human race. Enough of a heart to fall in love with a woman who was only human. Enough of a heart to sacrifice his own powers for the good of mankind.

Vergil may not have inherited his father's heart, but _he_ had.

"Well, I'll go, too." He muttered. That girl could never _hope_ to take out her father, especially if he did manage to grasp Sparda's powers. And if he did manage to grasp them, the entire _world _would have a hard time stopping him. He wouldn't allow that to happen. He wouldn't allow his father's power to be stolen and used in such a way, a way so contrary to his will.

"But you better hurry, if you don't want me to take all the credit!" He yelled after the girl, although he knew she couldn't hear him. She was long since out of sight.

He began walking off, preparing himself for his own journey up the tower, feeling more determined than he could recall in a while. He had always had a heart to do what was right, and he had always been a hunter of demons, but he had never felt so motivated to stop something before. It was like something in him had awakened, and it seemed so obvious now. This was his purpose, his goal. To stop people like Arkham, to destroy evil before it could destroy the innocent.

Like father, like son.

He had never liked his father. He had felt a sort of bitter resentment towards him since he never grew up knowing him, since he had left his wife to raise her two sons on her own. Since he hadn't been there to protect her when demons took her life. But suddenly, it was like he held an all-new respect for him, maybe for the first time. The old wounds of anger he felt towards him seemed to have been bandaged over, healed a little. Regardless of what he had done, he had been a good demon, and a powerful one, and Dante, for the first time, felt a little proud to be Sparda's son.

**[XI]**

She climbed steadily, taking slow, calculated steps. The strap of the rocket launcher dug into her back, her legs were tired, and her body was sore, but she forced herself not to acknowledge these things, forced herself to shove down the fear that plagued her when she wondered what she'd encounter when she reached the top. She instead focused on her anger, her hate, and these things forced her determination to the front of her heart, overpowering any trace of fear she might have. Only when she had gotten her revenge, when she had made everything right, could her heart finally heal.

Slowly but surely, she made her way to the top, not realizing that a certain demon in red was doing the very same thing.


	12. This Hurts Me More Than It Hurts You

**_Chapter Twelve - "This Hurts Me More Than It Hurts You"_**

**[XII]**

When she finally managed to find the empty library, she thought she was going to cry with relief. She stumbled across the room, looking around the many bookshelves, making sure there weren't any demons hiding anywhere. There weren't. Once she reached the other end of the room, she collapsed against a shelf full of musty books, taking Kalina Ann off her shoulders and propping it against the wall next to her. She collapsed forward, breathing heavily, struggling to return her heartbeat to its normal pace.

When she had finally (after long, painful, last) reached an entrance into the tower, she had been sore and out of breath. Before she even had a chance to catch it, she had been attacked by some kind of freakish demons she had never seen before. They looked like some kind of grotesque angels, and, as ashamed as she was to admit it, after attempting to blast some of them away and failing, she had just run for her life. If she had been in better condition, she would have gotten them eventually, but they were more resilient then most demons, and she felt like she was about to collapse as it was. The last thing she needed was more injuries. She had to keep her ultimate goal in mind - her father. These lesser demons could wait until that burden was lifted from her shoulders.

Inside the tower, things hadn't exactly gotten better. Demons pounced everywhere she turned, never allowing her a break to catch up on some much needed rest. To top it off, she was totally lost with no clue how to get closer to the top. For a moment, there'd been silence as the demons finally seemed to be laying off, and then she'd found this library. It was quiet, it was empty, and at least for right now, it was safe.

She allowed her body to relax, leaning limply against the old books, slumped forward, trying hard to make it stop hurting to breathe. There was a dull burning in her chest, but as she stood there, she slowly felt her heart rate returning to normal. She kept a gun clutched in her hand, just in case, but other than that, she let herself finally drop her guard.

She was so focused on her heavy breathing, in fact, she completely missed the sound of the library door opening, and the sound of the footsteps coming towards her. As the figure got closer, however, she could feel the vibrations in the floor, and the footsteps were so calm and leisurely she knew instantly who it was.

_Him._

He had _followed _her! _What the hell is he doing here? Why can't he just go away and leave me alone?_

She didn't look up, still catching her breath, and decided to ignore him unless he spoke to her...and she knew he would. Her heart, which had almost returned to its normal pace, burned with a dull anger. Sure enough, the footsteps came closer, and she could feel him near her as he walked by.

"What's wrong, ya tired?" He taunted. "Then stand back, I'll take care of this."

She looked up as he walked away, the dull burning in her heart blooming into a destructive flame. She raised her arm, aiming her gun at his retreating form. "No, YOU stand back!"

He froze, and before she could blink he had whipped around and grabbed her hand, forcing her arm down. She pulled the trigger, firing a bullet into his abdomen. Blood spurted out from the wound, covering his abs, but he didn't so much as flinch. He leaned over her, hand clasped around the barrel of her gun and a few of her fingers, squeezing them almost painfully. He was angry, angrier than she had ever seen him at her before.

"I told you, you can't do it! Don't you get it? This is not a human's job!"

"YOU'RE the one who doesn't get it!" His glare was piercing, but hers was even more powerful, driven by a rage that was beginning to become irrational. "It's not something you can reason with. It has nothing to do with me being a human or you being a demon."

When he didn't respond, she raised her gun higher, pressing it hard against his bare chest. He let his hand drop away, stepping backwards as she pushed him roughly with the barrel of her gun. "I'm driven by the inability to forgive him! My soul is screaming, _demanding _me to kill him!"

Without warning, he ripped the gun from her hand, and her arm fell to her side. She backed away from him slowly. "That's enough motivation to keep me going." She backed up to her rocket launcher, still propped against the shelf, and picked it up, slinging it over her shoulder, ready to continue on her journey. He just stood there with her gun, watching her, and she walked past him with confidence.

"Besides, this is _my _family matter. You should stay out of it."

She had only walked a few feet before he spoke again.

"Okay, Lady, I get the picture now." She stopped and turned to look at him. "But I can't just sit back and watch, either. I'm pretty pissed at him too, ya know."

He tossed her gun to the ground and she watched as it slid across the floor, stopping at her feet. This seemed like a peaceful gesture, but before she could so much as lean down to grab it, she heard the click of two pistols being drawn. She looked up and, sure enough, both of his hands were aiming a gun at her, fingers held ready on the triggers.

"Now, get out of my way, or there'll be some consequences."

She should have felt fear. She should have realized going against him would be a hopeless battle. She should have just backed away. But at this point, her determination and anger had eliminated any other thoughts, any sense of proper judgment. She just wanted him dead.

"Fair enough," she said, and she whipped Kalina Ann from her shoulder, aiming it directly at him. "I wasn't planning on letting any demons live anyway. Not even _one_."

She pulled the trigger, feeling the familiar jolt of the large weapon against her as she fired a missile at him. He leaped backwards into the air, launching himself over a bookshelf, which the missile hit instead in a fiery explosion. He could jump incredibly high, and with an agility a human could only dream of. He landed easily on his feet on the other end of the shelf, and she resumed her aim on him, not intimidated by his skill. The two stood as pages of books rained down around them, and she briefly wondered how destroyed the library was going to be when they were done.

**[XII]**

Well, she put up a pretty decent fight, he'd give her that (more than some of the lesser demons he had faced that day). But in the end, it was all too easy to dodge her blows, to jump out of her reach, and even to hold her off without actually shooting her.

The first thing she did was continually fire missiles at him, and when he easily jumped to avoid all of those, she resorted to shooting him with her pistols while he was flying through the air. Occasionally he'd get hit by a bullet or two, which was enough to be annoying but not enough to slow him down. He had to use a good portion of his strength, but she was using _all _of hers, and it couldn't be clearer that she was overexerting herself. She ran at him, yelled at him, tried desperately to shoot at him. It got to the point where he couldn't just keep dodging - he had to fire back to slow her down. He made sure his bullets never hit her, of course, but he'd fire remarkably close to her head or body as she was about to take a shot, and it always slowed her down as she stopped to dodge a bullet that wouldn't have hit her anyway.

Things got trickier when she resorted to using her grappling hook to get the upper hand, shooting to the top of the ceiling-high bookcase in the center of the room, and tossing grenades down at him. That _did _throw him off guard - he didn't even realize she had grenades. Damn, she really had come prepared. The explosion wouldn't kill him, but it was one of the things that took him longer to recover from, and in all honesty he didn't want to have any sort of weakness around her. There was no doubt in his mind that she _would _kill him if she could - it was all over her face, in her eyes. There was pain there, anger, and he didn't think it was really directed at him - she was just taking it out in the only way she could.

He had to slow her down, get her to stop, and his motivation behind this thought wasn't even his own safety - it was hers. She had lost all traces of rational thought, and didn't even seem to realize the fact she was working herself too hard, killing herself in her desperate rage. The old phrase "this hurts me more than it hurts you" suddenly popped into his mind, and in her case, it was true - in her attempts to hurt him, she was hurting herself far worse.

_No more bullshit, _he thought, back flipping away from an explosion just in time. She really did gain an upper hand when she disappeared to the top; it took him a moment to spot her location, and by the time he did, she had usually already chucked a grenade at him. He was going to have to stop dodging and attacking from afar and get a little more forceful.

After landing back on his feet, floor still shaking from the explosion, he stayed behind the shelf he had landed near, keeping his eye on her but remaining hidden from view. He watched as she slowly lowered to the ground, one hand feeling around her skirt. It looked like she was all out of explosives. _Good, finally. _She held the launcher in front of her and looked around, and began running in the opposite direction. He ran a few feet out from his hiding place and leapt unnaturally high into the air. She wheeled around, hearing his footsteps, but by the time she spun around he had landed directly in front of her, grabbed her arm, and slung her into the bookcase. She groaned as her back collided with the shelf, sending more books to the floor, but as she fell to the ground she fired another missile. He back flipped from the ground and landed on top of a smaller bookcase. It rumbled with the explosion, but he stayed steady, looking down at her as she struggled to stand up.

"Ready to call it quits yet?" He called down.

She gritted her teeth at him, standing and slinging the launcher over her shoulder, seeming to realize how useless it was against him. Instead, she reached for her handgun. "Not until one of us is dead." She hissed.

"Well, I can promise it's not gonna be _me_, and I think you know that, too. So what's the deal, Lady? You got a death wish?" He folded his arms, walking across the top of the shelf. Although a little sweaty, his breathing was perfectly normal. She, on the other hand, was completely breathless, struggling just to get oxygen into her lungs. Somehow, she still managed to yell at him.

"Why don't you just _kill _me then?" She yelled. She fired bullets at his feet, and he ran, jumping from the top of the shelf to the one next to it, running and jumping from shelf to shelf as her bullets trailed his feet. "Why don't you stop holding back?" She continued, yelling over the gunfire. "What's wrong?" She taunted, running towards the shelves, trying from every angle. "Can't you even kill a human?"

As he reached the next shelf, she had to pause to reload her gun, and in that instant he leapt from the shelf to the ground. She had just shoved a new clip into the machine when he grabbed her arm again, and she almost looked fearful when she looked up into his hard face in surprise.

"I'm not_ trying _to kill you." He hissed, and proceeded to fling her across the room, a task as difficult for him as a child flinging a rag doll. She skidded across the floor, firing at him, but all of the bullets bounced somewhere else. She was too weakened. She steadied herself, standing up, and he walked towards her, calm, determined. Not once during the entire fight had he felt like laughing, or cheering, or doing any of the other things he had done every time they had fought before, the things that proved this was all a joke to him and he wasn't taking her seriously. He felt more serious now than he had felt in a while.

She seemed to sense this, because although she continued to fire, she was backing away from him. She seemed to realize that her defeat was inevitable, and as she backed up she ended near the shelf in the center of the room, slumping against it. Her bullets pinged around him, but they all missed his body, and he continued towards her, ready to end this once and for all. Not just this fight, but the animosity she held towards him in general. It was useless. She didn't need him as an enemy, and he didn't need _her _as an enemy.

_No more fucking around. Time for this to stop._


	13. If Looks Could Kill

**_Chapter Thirteen - If Looks Could Kill_**

**[XIII]**

She knew it was over the second she felt her back collide with the wall - actually, she had known in her heart it was over before it began - but she refused to simply stand and accept her fate. She leaned against the shelf, firing bullets at him as he approached her. If looks could kill, she'd be dead - his eyes were shooting daggers at her, and everything in his posture exuded a "no-bullshit" type of attitude. If her heart hadn't already been working at its maximum rate, it would have speeded up. He didn't look like a youthful joker anymore. He looked determined and powerful.

She could never kill him. Ever. In fact, she should be dead by now, but he had gone easy on her. He had let her live. She'd been at his mercy the whole time.

And that was the worst part, even worse than the soreness in her body and the constricted feeling in her chest as her heart struggled to return to its normal pace. He approached, closer and closer, completely ignoring her bullets, and the worst part was the feeling of helplessness that washed over her. She finally fired her last bullet, but she continued to defiantly pull the trigger as nothing came out of the barrel but empty clicks. The feeling only increased, the sound of the empty shots seeming to remind her of how weak, how powerless she was as he only came closer to her, closing in on her like a fox closes in on a cornered rabbit.

_This _was what she hated. Being helpless. She would rather he had killed her. She would rather be dead than defeated. But he hadn't killed her, and she knew he wasn't going to hurt her. She would almost rather have him be violent towards her than to have him act as he was acting now, with his cold confidence and dominance over her.

There was no point in fighting it anymore. He had reached her, bodies much closer than they had ever been, and his hand covered hers, firmly but gently pushing the useless gun down. His other arm reached up and leaned on the wall over her head so that he was towering over her, and she simply slumped against the wall, ashamed at her defeat, at the power he had over her.

She dared to look up at his face, which was unnervingly close to hers, and glared at him, the only thing she could do. From this close, she could actually feel the warmth coming from his body, and she could _smell _him - sweaty and musty, though not in a bad way, other than the fact that it just further reminded her of how strong he was, and how much he was about to rub it in her face.

"I'll take care of him," he said, in a voice much quieter than she had been expecting. She looked up further, into his eyes, and was almost alarmed when she saw how soft they were. They weren't angry, they weren't even triumphant. He looked like he felt _sorry _for her, like he was actually trying to go easy on her. In fact, he was _reassuring _her. No taunting, no telling her to stay out of his way, no mention of the fact that he had just kicked her ass and hardly had to touch her to do so. Instead, he was saying something to comfort her, to assure her that she didn't have to worry about her father because he was going to deal with that instead.

She tilted her head further towards him, feeling slightly amazed, almost wanting to check his eyes further to see if he was kidding. It couldn't have been clearer that he wasn't. He was gazing steadily into her eyes, and she suddenly felt her glare, her heart, softening. His blue eyes no longer looked hard or intimidating, and they weren't laughing at her, either - as crazy as it sounded, they made her feel safe, like for just a second, everything was going to be okay.

Her heartbeat had returned to normal, but it steadily increased as she became conscious again of how close they were, and as her eyes took in his whole face she realized for the first time just how attractive he was. Okay, yeah, she had noticed that he was good-looking before - how could she not, with the way he paraded around without a shirt on? - but seeing his face so close-up and without a trace of cockiness or anger on it made her realize just how handsome his features were.

He seemed to be taking in her face, too. She could feel her it warming slightly, both from the warmth of him being so close to her and from the situation itself, and in that instant something happened that caught her completely off guard.

He was leaning forward to kiss her.

She quickly turned her face away from him, startled, and the second she turned he leaned back from her and began to walk away. The moment was over so quickly she wondered if it had happened at all.

But she knew it had. She felt her face warming further, despite the fact he was now away from her, and she decided to pretend the moment hadn't happened.

"Why do you care so much?" Her voice came out smaller, weaker than she had expected.

He turned back to her. "This whole business started with my father sealing the entrance between the two worlds. And now, my brother's trying to break that spell and turn everything back into demonville." His voice was bitter, a combination of hurt and anger. "This is _my _family matter, too."

She hung her head, unable to meet his eyes. She felt more shame wash over her, but it wasn't from her defeat. It was from the way she had acted. It couldn't be clearer now that this demon wasn't bad, that he actually had feelings. She should have seen it all along, should have known when he never tried to hurt her, but she had been so focused on her own thoughts, her own goals, she hadn't even bothered to think about what he must be going through. His brother was largely behind this whole scheme, and she knew exactly how he felt, because so was her father. He knew how she felt, she realized. He knew what it was like to be betrayed by a family member, to have them try to kill you, to be obsessed with wanting to stop them, needing the closure that would only come from doing so.

He was, quite possibly, the only person she had ever met who could understand her, and she'd been so busy hating him and trying to kill him she hadn't noticed. Guilt clouded her heart as he continued.

"Quite frankly, at first, I didn't give a damn." He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. "But because of you, I know what's important now. I know what I need to do."

He looked at her for a second longer, and she finally dared to glance over at him. When their eyes met, he turned and began to walk away.

She couldn't just let him go. This couldn't be it, she had to make it up to him somehow -

"Wait."

He paused, and turned back around to look at her. "Trust me, I'll make things right for you." His voice had a lighter air to it now, as if he was slowly returning to his normal arrogant self. "That's what _my _soul is telling me to do."

She had removed Kalina Ann from her shoulders and held it in front of her. The weapon was extremely important to her for many reasons - it was her most powerful weapon, it was the first one she had ever completely customized herself, and it was her own personal memorial to her mother. Giving it up would be a sacrifice, but it was the least she could do. And what was more, she realized she actually trusted him with it.

"Use this."

"How much is it gonna cost me?" He teased, reaching his hand out for it. She drew it back to herself, and realized there was something she _did _want in return. Something she still didn't know after all this time.

"You can give me your name."

There was a small pause as his eyes briefly shifted away from her.

"Dante."

She nodded, a ghost of a smile actually tracing her lips. _Dante. _It was an unusual name, to be sure, but she hadn't expected it to be anything normal. Somehow, it just...fit.

She held the weapon out to him, and he accepted it, hoisting it up onto his shoulder. He turned away with a final look at her, walking towards the exit once again. But she wasn't ready to let him go. She felt incomplete, like something still needed to be said.

"Dante."

He stopped, turned to look at her. Her throat felt tight as she realized how much sadness was suddenly crushing down on her heart, now that the thrill of battle and her hate towards him had dissolved.

"Please...free my father."

He merely looked at her for a moment, and she suddenly wondered if this would be the last time she ever saw him.

"I will...Lady."

With no more words, he turned and left, leaving her all alone. Sadness and exhaustion crashed down upon her, and she slumped against the bookshelf, slowly sliding down until she was sitting on the cold library floor. She leaned her head forward onto her knees and simply sat in a little ball, feeling helpless once again, like there was nothing she could do. She let her body relax, let the despair swarm around her, wishing she could simply fall asleep and that when she woke, somehow everything would make sense and be okay.


	14. Last One Standing

**_Chapter Fourteen - Last One Standing_**

**[XIV]**

She really did fall asleep, or at least dozed off a little. She was too much on the defensive to allow herself to relax enough to fade into the darkness of real sleep, but she treaded the line between awake and asleep carefully. She had just begun drifting further towards sleep when the creaking of a door roused her back to full consciousness. She raised her head, blinking her eyes tiredly, for a moment forgetting where she was. It all came back to her as she looked at the floor scattered with books and torn pages, and she realized with alarm that the door Dante had left through God knows how long ago had just recently been shut.

Someone had been in the room with her.

She looked around, but everything appeared to be the same as before she had drifted off. She looked down at herself, and all her weapons were still there. For a brief moment she panicked when she realized Kalina Ann was gone, but then quickly remembered she had lent it to Dante.

_Dante..._

It still felt weird knowing his name, seeing as she'd been thinking of him as "the demon in red" and "that bastard" for so long. It was nice, though, it made him seem even more human.

But who had been in the room with her just now? Someone had passed through, completely ignoring her either because they hadn't noticed her or just didn't care. But who...?

_Vergil._

She suddenly realized it must have been him. He and Dante were headed in the same direction, she was sure. She had actually forgotten about Dante's evil twin, since he had disappeared after the fight with her father on the tower. She should have realized he was still a threat, that a little fall wasn't going to kill him.

She stood slowly, stretching. Her muscles were sore. She checked the wound on her thigh, which seemed to be holding up pretty well, although it still throbbed dully. She felt strange, empty, without the large weight of her launcher pressed against her back. She took it everywhere with her and had grown so accustomed to its weight it felt strange being so light. She felt a bit powerless without it.

But what could she do, anyway? She felt useless just standing there, but there wasn't much she could do. She couldn't kill Vergil, and she couldn't kill her father if he had managed to claim Sparda's powers. But she needed to do _something. _She couldn't just stand there. She had to continue her journey to the top. She hadn't come all this way to do nothing.

Unholstering her pistol, she gripped it tightly, adding a fresh round to the gun. She wasn't sure what she would do or see once she reached the top of the tower, but one thing was for sure; she had been determined to reach the top, and she was still going to. Although she had left the job up to Dante, part of her still hoped she could somehow finish her father off herself.

_Please, _she found herself willing the universe as she left through the creaky library door, _please, I just need to see him. I need to finish it myself. I need this to end. I need peace..._

**[XIV]**

When she reached the stairs outside of the tower, she knew she was close. There wasn't much building left to climb, and pouring down from the sky she could see an unearthly red beam. She shuddered, and it wasn't from the light wind that was sending a slight chill through her. She knew that beam was the portal to the Underworld, and the idea that she was so close to it was a bit frightening. She could handle demons in her world, but in _their _world? Not a chance.

But it meant she was close.

She continued up the stairs alone, hearing no noises except her footsteps and the occasional breeze whispering in her ear. It was dark, the sky covered in clouds, and the air was filled with the crispness that only came at night. She wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but she knew it was sometime in the early hours of the morning. Probably fairly close to daybreak. It had been twilight when she found the tower; the whole ordeal had been lasting all night.

She continued up the stairs until she finally, after long last, reached the top of the tower. The strange markings on the floor were still lit up in red. She was entirely alone. She looked up at the long, red beam, leading into an explosion of red color eerily floating among the clouds. The entrance to Hell itself. That was where the three of them were; it _had _to be. Until one of them came out, there was nothing she could do except wait.

But she wasn't waiting very long. Just as she was wondering what was happening, what her father had transformed into, how Dante was doing, she realized a figure was falling from the sky, down the long red shaft of light. It looked like a dot from far away, but it grew larger and larger as it came closer. Her eyes widened.

It was him.

He looked exactly as he had always looked. He didn't look like he had transformed or anything. She wondered if he had gained any new powers at all, wondered what Dante had done to stop him. Her wide eyes followed him as he fell all the way to the top of tower, landing with a thud right in the center. She squeezed her gun so tightly she could feel her pulse pounding in her palm, as well as feel her heart thudding against her chest. He lay so limply in the middle of the tower she wondered if the fall had killed him, or if he had been already dead when he was thrown down, but in the next second she saw him twitching slightly. An anticipation the likes of which she had never known before seized her.

This was it.

"Why?" She heard his voice hiss as she slowly walked closer to him. She was behind him; he didn't see her. "How could I...?"

He was weakly pulling himself along the floor, leaving a thick trail of blood in his wake. He was near death as it was. He had been defeated. Dante had done it. She could feel her heart steadily thudding, and she mentally thanked Dante for defeating him, thanked fate for allowing her one last chance to finally do this, to finish him off herself...

"I shall become a GOD!" He hissed angrily as he struggled across the floor. "No one here can stop me!"

She stepped in front of his path, keeping her gun aimed down at his head. He looked up after a moment of painful crawling and noticed her red boots, and his angry eyes trailed up into her face.

"What a surprise." Despite the pounding of her heart, her voice came out cool and collected. She felt light-headed, and she could hear her voice, but it felt like it was coming from someone else. "Here I was looking for you, and lo and behold, you come to me."

"Mary..." His voice was raspy, weak, and at the mention of her birth name, for once she didn't feel anger. She felt oddly peaceful, perhaps because, for the first time all day, she was in complete control.

"Don't _ever _call me that again." She said calmly, though there was a hard edge to her voice. "My mother was the only one who could say my name."

He seemed to realize how serious she was, and he shuffled towards her desperately. "Wait...please. Do you really want to shoot me? _Can _you shoot me, your own father?"

She didn't respond, simply kept her gun hand steady, her eyes hard and unforgiving. He seemed to drop the desperate act as his eyes flamed with rage.

"What have I done wrong? Even the heroic Sparda sacrificed a woman so that he could become a legend! I wished to be a GOD! And I sacrificed one miserable human being for that reason. That is all! Was that really so awful?"

She still didn't say anything. She didn't feel anger. She was still light-headed and her heart was still pounding with the anticipation of what was about to happen. What was really, finally, about to happen.

"I have some unfinished business to take care of." He continued, his voice sounding rational and calm once again. "Help me, Mary."

She looked down at him slowly, heart beating in her ears, and something told her this moment was going to be a turning point in her life. Just as her mother's death had been, so her father's death would be.

"Mary died a long time ago." She said slowly. "My name...is Lady."

She grasped her gun with both hands. She was not going to miss.

"Good-bye, father."

Absolute shock and horror passed through his eyes as he seemed to realize, for the very first time, that she was actually serious.

"NO - !"

His cry was cut off by the bang of gunfire, never to be finished. She fired every bullet she had left into his skull, pulling the trigger until nothing but blank clicks came out. She was empty. He lay before her face-down in a pool of blood, skull hardly recognizable anymore, completely still.

She felt like she was floating through a dream. Her head felt like it was swimming through clouds, and she was suddenly filled with a strange sense of peace. She didn't even realize she was stumbling slowly backwards until she collapsed in a heap to the ground.

As she collided with the ground, it seemed to jolt just a little bit of reality into her, and she lowered her gun slowly. She didn't need it because it was over.

It was over.

It was _over._

_It's over it's over it's over it's over..._

She heard herself laughing a bit hysterically, though her voice still didn't feel like it was coming from her own throat. She looked up at the sky, into the unnatural red that was the entrance to the Demon World, and she laughed with a joy she didn't feel. For a moment her eyes followed the swirling red color in the sky, watching as it twitched and fluttered smoothly. It was the same color as his blood. She still felt dream-like as she watched the sky, feeling a weird emptiness, and it wasn't until the swirling red blurred and she realized there were tears rolling down her cheeks that she became aware of the burning in her heart.

She realized she was sobbing now, she could tell by the way her chest was heaving, and she knew that the laughter before had just been the pain trying to hide, trying to find its way out of her. Images filled her head of long ago. Of being a little girl. Of laughing. Of feeling safe. Of her mother and father kissing. Of her father telling her bedtime stories. Of innocence. Of her mother's smile. Of life as it would never be again. She looked down, away from the blood-colored sky, and saw her tears falling onto the cold ground.

"Here I thought I wasn't gonna cry..." she murmured to herself, trying desperately to find humor in the situation, in the irony, but there wasn't any.

After all the time she had spent waiting for this moment, she had expected to feel so happy, so triumphant, so vindicated, so _free_.

But all she felt was grief.

So she let herself cry, sitting alone on the top of the tower with an empty gun and the splattered mess of what had once been her father.

**[XIV]**

She stood among the rubble of the run-down city streets, taking in the demolished buildings and cloudy night sky. All was silent; demons had been roaming these streets earlier, were responsible for their destruction, but right now she was the only creature wandering through them. And thank goodness; she still felt vulnerable without the comforting weight of Kalina Ann on her shoulders. She could defend herself if any demons showed up, but not as easily as she could if she had her trusty launcher, so she felt a bit more on edge than normal.

She wasn't sure how long she had sat crying on top of the tower, but eventually the tears had stopped and she simply felt light-headed, and her more rational self told her it was time to go, time to put this behind her and continue on with life. She had done what she had set out to do.

_So what's left to do now? _She had wondered as she began the long descent down the tower. She had thought about where her life was going to go all the way down the tower and out into the city streets. Well, she had to continue in the demon-killing business, of course, but what else besides that? _Was _there anything else besides that?

Well, first things first - she had to head back to her house. It was going to take a really long-ass time since her bike was gone. She felt pissed at the thought that her motorcycle - which had been her mode of transportation for the last few years - was either lost or destroyed, but she hadn't really expected much less. She wasn't exactly in the mood to make the journey on foot yet, though. And besides, she needed to wait for him. She needed to get her launcher back. That, and she had to admit there was a slight worry nagging on her heart that he wasn't going to come back, that his brother (or maybe something else) would kill him off, and even though it was a stupid worry, she'd feel better if she saw him alive. It was a strange thought, the idea that seeing his stupid cocky grin would actually make her feel relieved, but it was true.

So she stood among the buildings, inspecting them with her eyes in the silence for lack of anything better to do. Her mind was restless, conjuring up all kinds of horrible ideas of what could have happened to him in the Demon World, but in the next moment she heard a clatter coming from behind her. She wheeled around in surprise, tensing, expecting a demon, and she was instantly relieved when she saw that it _was _a demon, but it just so happened to be the one she wanted to see. She realized in the back of her head with awe that this was probably the first time in her life she had ever been _happy _to see a demon.

He looked a bit weary, and he wasn't grinning or smirking, her launcher hoisted over his shoulder as he made his way down the pile of rubble, sighing.

"What an ordeal." She heard him say to himself, and when he looked up and noticed her standing there, his eyes seemed to light up a little. "You're still here." He sounded pleasantly surprised.

"I need that back." She explained, her eyes drifting to her beloved weapon. Although it was true that was the main reason she had stayed, she hid the incredible relief that washed over her upon seeing him still in one piece.

He lowered the weapon from his shoulders and handed it back to her, but before she could grasp the comfort of the cold metal in her hands, he pulled it away.

"No late charges, I hope?"

She kept her face stony, but inwardly she smirked, glad whatever had happened in the Demon World hadn't changed him too much.

"Hmm, I'll think about it."

She reached her hands out again, and he handed the weapon back to her. She placed it back in its rightful spot, secured safely on her back. The faintest trace of a smile was on his lips, but it didn't last. His eyes drifted up towards the cloudy sky where her eyes had just been, and he took a few steps in front of her. She followed his gaze, looking up towards the sky for any potential threats, though at the moment all seemed calm.

"We should be fine for now. But I'm sure they'll be back soon. Very soon."

The words and the ominous way in which he said them gave her a slight chill. There was nothing joking about his voice. He didn't even sound annoyed. He just sounded as serious as could be, and kind of weary, like a man who had seen more than his share of hardships. She wondered what exactly had happened to him on his journey to the Underworld, though she was almost positive she knew.

His brother. It must have been. He must have finally killed him. She would've thought he'd be happy if this was the case, but she knew now that he wouldn't be. She had expected to feel happy when she killed her father, but instead she'd been filled with intense despair, which was still throbbing dully in her heart. She realized with a pang of sympathy that he was probably going through the exact same thing as her. Which was strange, because she hadn't thought it was possible for demons to feel emotions -

And then she heard a slight sniffling noise and turned to look at him, and when she did she was hit by a jolt of amazement.

There were tears on his face.

She was looking at him from an angle, so for a moment she thought she was imagining it, that maybe it was a trick of the light, but there was no denying it. There were tears on his weary face. Her eyes were wide. This defied everything she had ever believed. She hadn't thought it was even _possible..._

"Are you crying?" She asked softly.

He shifted away from her, completely hiding his face, and her words seemed to bring him back to his senses a little. "It's only the rain." He said it in a voice that attempted to be casual, but she caught the pain he was masking underneath. It would have been impossible for her not to, since she used the same tactic to hide the same pain.

She lifted her hand into the air and felt around. It was dry as a bone. "The rain already stopped."

He shifted uncomfortably for a moment, turning his head even further away from her.

"Devils never cry."

There was almost a sort of defiance in the way he said it, and she could sense his embarassment that she had noticed him showing weakness. For that moment, just a moment, he seemed sad, ashamed, and vulnerable all in one, and she honestly wondered in her heart if, despite the near immortality and extraordinary skills, he was actually a human after all.

"I see." She said quietly. She looked away from him, back towards the sky. "Maybe somewhere out there, even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one." She looked back to him, trying to see his reaction. "Don't you think?"

He shifted his head ever so slightly toward her, though he kept his back turned.

"Maybe."

No defiance, no more "I-wasn't-crying", just honesty, practically admitting he had indeed been shedding tears. She wasn't sure why, but in that moment she felt connected to the demon in a way she had never felt connected to anyone. He was someone who could understand her, who felt the same pain she was feeling. Who had enough of a heart to let himself cry. Just like a human.

_Just like a human..._

However, just as she was beginning to ponder these things, she realized they had company.

"By the way..."

She reached for her gun and, quick as lightning, fired three shots over his shoulder. The three demons leaping towards them flew backwards and fell to the ground. She reached for her other gun and held both arms out, circling around and taking in the sudden horde surrounding them.

"Looks like we're gonna be busy for a while."

She turned her back to him, body tensing in a way all too familiar by now as she prepared herself for battle.

"Well, bring it on." She heard him say, and his voice sounded much lighter, more like his normal self, as if the little moment hadn't happened. "I love this. This is what I live for!"

She glanced to the side, watched as he unholstered his pistols with an unnecessarily extravagant flourish, and suddenly he was grinning, back to the way she remembered him.

"I'm absolutely CRAZY about it!"

Well, he certainly seemed crazy as he proceeded to bounce around, off the buildings and through the air, guns blazing with a skill only a demon could possess, and she joined him, the two of them working as one to take out the demonic attack. It was strange, really, but in the bleak setting of the cloudy morning, being attacked by countless demons, the two of them finally began to feel their spirits lift. The despair clouding her heart seemed to lighten considerably as she whirled around, pushing herself to her limits to take out the enemy. She knew then that this was what she was meant to do, what she would always continue to do. Killing these demons, making the world a safer place, was what caused the clouds to lift.

That, and the knowledge that not all of these demons were so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N: **THE END.

...Or is it?

Actually, this is just the beginning.

DUN DUN DUN...


	15. Worth Dying For

**A/N: **This chapter is really long. Many of the chapters from now on are gonna be pretty lengthy. Long chapters are either heaven or hell for readers, depending on whether they hold your interest or are boring. Don't hesitate to tell me if this ends up being the latter, because that is the last thing I want. Also, don't hesitate to tell me if either Dante or Lady seems to fall out of character (not just with this chapter, with the rest of the story). I tried really hard to keep them both in character, but we'll see if I succeeded or not.

The only other thing is I'm assuming everyone knows who Enzo is, but just in case there is anyone who doesn't, Enzo is a character who has only appeared in the DMC3 manga. Even if you don't think the manga counts, he is also mentioned in the instruction manual for the first game, so we can count him as a canon character. Anyway, he is basically Dante's agent, who helped him get the DMC building in the first place, and he's notorious for drinking and being a perv. :P

That is all. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**_Chapter Fifteen - Worth Dying For_**

**[XV]**

The silence should have been a relief, but instead, she found it unnerving. It made her paranoid. The idea that she and Dante were finally being left alone seemed too good to be true. She gripped her guns tightly, just in case, bringing an arm up and rubbing it across her forehead. She hadn't realized how sweaty she was all day. Actually, she hadn't noticed _anything _about any of her vital stats all day, she assumed because she was so determined and focused on reaching her goal, to the point of ignoring all the annoying little human needs tugging at her. But now that it was over, now that her father was dead, the portal to the Demon World had been closed off, and everything seemed to be calm, she realized how hungry she was, how dirty she was, how sore and exhuasted she was. She felt like collapsing onto a soft bed somewhere, _anywhere, _and passing out. After taking a nice, warm shower. And eating enough food to fill a fridge.

Damn, walking home was going to suck.

She scanned the bleak and run-down landscape, but the only demon in sight was Dante, who was still clutching his own pistols and looking warily at the sky. Everything seemed to be clear, though, so she finally began to let her body relax -

_Crash. _

She wheeled around, guns aimed, and found herself aiming at a pile of rubble. She heard a chuckle behind her that seemed all too familiar by now and didn't even bother to turn around. She could just picture the obnoxious grin on his face. It was all too clear in his voice.

"Relax, Lady, I don't think that crumbling building's gonna hurt you, unless you stand under it."

She realized now the crash had come from a piece of debris falling from the roof of the nearly destroyed building in front of her. She breathed a sigh of relief, lowering her arms.

"We can relax. That was the last of 'em. At least for right now."

She glanced over at him, and his eyes were back on the sky. She wondered how he could say that with such certainty, but she didn't question it, holstering her guns. She was so sick of demons. She had seen enough today to last a lifetime. Even though the demons she and Dante had been attacked by were of the weakest kind, there were a _lot _of them, and it took some serious effort to keep up with them all. Not to mention that huge thing that looked like the Grim Reaper that had appeared at the end. She had never actually come across a demon like that before, and it nearly took her head off when it suddenly shot out of a portal in the ground, swinging its scythe. Fortunately, Dante knew had to handle those things much better than she did, and had dispatched of it fairly quickly. And all had been silent since.

She let her eyes drift up to the sky, which had finally grown much lighter. Daybreak peeked through the clouds, casting some light on the dreary city. She walked towards Dante with her arms folded, curious as to what the demon's next move would be. He glanced over at her as she approached.

"So what now?" She asked, not taking her eyes off the sky.

"Well," he sighed in a way that was more of a yawn, and she wondered if he was as tired as she was. "Guess it's time to call it a night." Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Ah, shit."

She brought her gaze down to him. "What?"

"Just remembered, my place is as torn apart as everything else in this city, thanks to some demons sent by my brother and your dear old dad."

At the mention of their family members, both of them flinched inwardly, and Dante quickly continued in an airy voice, realizing he had skirted onto a topic that was sensitive for both of them.

"So, I'm sort of homeless right now. How about you?"

The idea that he had a "home" of any sort struck her as strange. She had never thought of demons as doing anything as normal as living in a house, but she supposed Dante lived just like a normal human did. He seemed more and more human to her with each passing minute, and with these new revelations she could feel the barrier between them breaking more and more.

"I should get going." She casted her eyes down the street, in the direction she'd be heading, and cringed. The very thought of how far she had to travel was enough to make her collapse in exhaustion.

"Going? What's the hurry?"

She sighed, adjusting the weight of Kalina Ann on her shoulders. "I have a long way to go."

"How long?"

She thought for a moment. It had taken her a couple hours to get here, but it was because she had gotten lost quite a few times. But she knew where she was going now, and if she stayed on the course...

"About an hour's drive."

"An hour, huh? Well, it doesn't look to me like you have a car."

"I _had _a motorcycle, but I don't know what happened to it. Probably destroyed by now."

Dante thought back to earlier in the day when he had been scaling the tower and come across a red bike, then proceeded to take it on a test-drive through the air, which had resulted in it exploding. He felt a pang of sheepish guilt.

"Heh, yeah." He folded his arms, studying the girl standing next to him curiously. "So what's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"How're you gonna get home?"

"On foot."

His eyes widened. "On _foot_? That's gonna take you all day."

She shrugged. "I might be able to get a cab or something." Though she doubted she'd actually find one willing to take her as far as she needed to go, and what was more, she didn't have any money on her.

Dante shook his head, chuckling lightly at the stubborn woman next to him. "You know, I think you forget that you're human sometimes."

She glared at him. "I may be human, but I'm not _weak_."

"I didn't _say _you were weak, did I? It's just that even I'd be crazy to attempt that after this long-ass day. I'm ready to collapse, too, you know."

She looked at him and realized he did look rather weary again, like he had looked when he first came back into the city with Kalina Ann hoisted over his shoulder. There were some tired lines on his face, and they made him look much older and more serious, despite the light-hearted tones in his voice.

"So what exactly do you think I should do?"

"I can give you a ride home."

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. Her pride wanted her to decline his offer, insist she could make it fine on her own, but every cell in her body was screaming for rest, and the idea of spending an hour sitting in a car as opposed to all day walking was enough to make her cry with relief. However, she kept her face wary.

"You have a car?"

Briefly twirling his pistols around his fingers before sticking them into the holsters on his back, he began walking down the dirty street. She followed, walking a little ways behind him.

"Well, not really, but I know where I can get one."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "You offer to give me a ride and you don't even have a car?"

"Relax, it's not like I'm gonna steal one. I'm a good law-abiding citizen, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "Right. So where _do _you plan on getting one, then?"

"Enzo."

The look on her face only proceeded to fill with more confusion. "Enzo...?"

"My agent. Kind of."

"You have an _agent_?"

"Yeah. Well, we haven't really worked together in a while, but he helps me with all my legal shit. He's kind of the reason I have somewhere to live in the first place. Well, had."

She had a hard time imagining what kind of person would agree to be Dante's agent, and wondered briefly how insane this "Enzo" was. "So, what exactly do you do that requires an agent?" She asked curiously.

"Eh, you know. Underground mercenary stuff. Killing demons. The usual."

"You kill demons for a living?"

He glanced back at her, grinning. "Aw, come on, don't tell me you haven't noticed all my sweet moves today. I didn't get as good as I am from sitting around and playing video games."

"Well, I've just never heard of a demon killing demons for a living."

He kicked at a rock on the ground in front of him, sending it skittering far ahead of them. "You know, I'm only half-demon, if it counts for anything. My mother was just as human as you are."

She nodded, suddenly remembering that that had been part of the legend, too. After saving humanity, the Legendary Dark Knight had lived among the humans and married a human woman, who gave birth to two sons. She had forgotten about that part of the story, maybe because she was still having a hard time accepting that it was true at all, seeing as she'd always thought it was just make-believe up until today. And then she suddenly realized exactly what he had said and felt a deeply-rooted pang of sympathy for him.

"I'm sorry." She said softly before she could help it.

He stopped, looking back at her, eyebrows furrowed. "Huh?"

"About your mother." She paused. "You said 'was'."

"Oh." He turned his face away from her and continued walking. "Yeah, well..." he sighed. "You know how it is. I guess being the wife of Sparda makes you a pretty important target."

He said it with a tired sort of bitterness, as if it was a topic he had gotten enraged over so many times it wasn't worth the effort to get angry anymore. Then suddenly he remembered what she had said earlier that day and turned to look at her. "You lost your mother, didn't you?"

It was Lady's turn to look at the ground, away from him. "Yes."

He resumed looking foward, kicking at whatever rocks and debris his feet came across. "Well, I'm sorry about that, too."

She didn't say anything at first. This was something she never talked about with anyone. She wasn't too keen on giving out personal information, anyway, so she usually kept it all bottled up inside. No one would understand, she figured, so what was the point? But in the next moment she heard herself talking again, eyes still on the concrete ground.

"My mother was my best friend."

There was a slight pause, and she suddenly felt self-conscious, like things were getting too personal now, but after a moment he responded quietly.

"So was mine."

She looked at him, at the back of his head, which was leaning forward, looking at the ground, and she almost felt like crying again. She was filled with the rather schoolgirlish urge to reach forward and grasp his hand, to hold it tightly in hers as they walked along together, two people with plenty of hidden scars and no one to understand them but each other. Instead, she merely continued walking along behind him, and in the next moment when he moved closer to the center of the road, she moved up and walked alongside him. Neither spoke as she continued to follow him, both basking in a silence that somehow didn't feel the least bit awkward.

**[XV]**

Both remained silent as they made their way out of the run-down city, Dante scanning their surroundings for hints as to where they were going and Lady simply taking in the scenery, marveling at the destruction the demons had caused. Not that it really surprised her in the least, but she shuddered to think of how many tax dollars it was going to cost to fix it all.

Eventually the landscape began to look more and more like a regular city, with buildings intact and some cars driving down the streets. There weren't many people up yet, though, and Dante and Lady remained mostly alone as they continued on their way. As he led her down the twisting roads, they began entering a part of the city that wasn't nearly as crowded, and soon they were in an area where grass was beginning to replace the cold, gray concrete, though it still held the industrial feel of a city. They branched off down a road that held conventional houses, as opposed to apartment buildings, standing in a line on either side of the street. There were still tall buildings lining the distance, but the sky was much clearer here, much easier to see. It was quite blue now, though the bottom was still trimmed in orange and pink from the early morning.

They walked along the sidewalk, passing houses and the occasional tree. As they were walking, the sun suddenly shone right into Lady's eyes, and she raised her hand over her eyebrows, squinting. She took a step back, into the shade of the tree up ahead, and suddenly found herself mesmerized. The sun beamed at her through the green branches of the tree, and the pink sky that served as the backdrop almost made it look as though it were glowing in a surreal way. She hadn't realized how wide open the sky was here until now, and the sight of the sun rising above the branches of the tree was so beautiful she paused for a moment, admiring it. Considering all the painful things she'd gone through that day, not to mention how crappy she felt right then as she was ready to sink to the ground in exhaustion, she felt somewhat amazed, almost relieved, that beautiful things still existed in the world.

Dante paused and glanced over his shoulder, realizing he was walking by himself. His partner stood a few feet behind him, gazing up into the sky. He walked back towards her liesurely, following her gaze, taking in the pleasant sight himself.

"Nice sunrise." He commented. "Never looks this good where I live."

"It's just nice to see color for a change."

"Mmm." He came to a stop next to her, looking up at the sky. A small grin suddenly formed on his face and he reached his arm out, snaking it tightly around her shoulders and leaning his head down toward hers. She stiffened slightly in surprise. "Pretty romantic, huh?" He murmured into her ear, grinning.

She rolled her eyes, maneuvering out of his grasp. "Don't get any ideas."

"Aw, you're no fun."

"Let's just keep going."

"Whatever, Lady."

The two continued on, Dante scanning the row of houses, looking for the one that belonged to Enzo. He had only been over a few times, but soon enough he recognized it. He pointed it out.

"Right up there."

Lady began to feel awkward about the whole idea. She hated borrowing things from people, or getting favors from them, much less from people she'd never met before. It made her feel guilty, and as tired as she was, she wondered if maybe she should have just refused his offer. It wasn't even _his c_ar, after all.

"Are you sure this guy won't mind?" She asked uncomfortably.

"Enzo? Nah." Dante waved her question away dismissively. "I doubt he'll be too happy when I tell him my place is totally destroyed, but you? You've got nothing to worry about. He's a horny little bastard, he'd do anything for a pretty girl. All you'd have to do is smile at him and he'd hand over the deed to his house if you asked for it."

To her surprise, she felt her face warming slightly at his indirect compliment, though she simply kept her eyes facing foward and didn't say anything. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and noticed the faint pink tinge that had appeared on her otherwise stony face, but he merely smirked to himself and didn't say anything.

The house they approached was small and white, nothing special, though it looked as though no one had cared for it for a while. The grass on the front lawn had grown rather long, snaking up to Lady's ankles, and paint was chipping off of the walls. A stone walkway led up to the screen door, which Dante proceeded to wrench open. He knocked on the wooden door underneath. The two waited in silence for a moment, but there was no response. Dante pounded his fist against the door again.

"Enzo! You in there?" He called, before pounding again. "Come on, Enzo, rise and shine!"

Lady winced. He was so _loud. _He was going to wake up the whole damn neighborhood.

"Doesn't he have a doorbell?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't work." As if to emphasize this point, he shoved his finger into the small white button on the side of the door a few times, to no effect. He pounded on the door again.

"ENZO!"

"Dante, you're going to wake up the whole neighborhood!" Lady hissed.

"Well, they should be up by now, anyway. Early bird gets the worm and all that shit." Although of course he usually ended up sleeping in until noon, but that was different. His job kept him out all night, after all. There was still no response, and after attempting to peek in through the glass panes on the top of the door, he pulled back, grasping the doorknob. "Well, guess we're just gonna have to go in. He's probably hung over."

Lady felt a new level of awkwardness over the situation and once again wished she had merely begun the journey on foot. "We can't just barge into his house!" She insisted.

"Sure we can." He twisted the knob, pushing the door open slightly. "See? He doesn't lock the door."

He stepped over the threshold, entering the house, but Lady held back. She didn't feel right just going into a stranger's house, presumably waking him up, and then asking if she could borrow his car. Dante held the door wide open.

"Come on, Lady, don't worry about it. He barges in on _me_ all the time. And trust me, he's harmless."

She sighed. Well, they had come all this way...

She stepped into the small house, glancing around. Across from the door were stairs leading to the second floor, and to their right was a kitchen that looked like it needed some serious attending to. A pile of unwashed dishes sat in the sink, and there were even more piled on the countertop, along with various items of food that he hadn't bothered to put away. Empty bottles of alcohol sat on the table. The kitchen led to a living room, and this was where Dante headed.

"Ah, there he is."

She followed him, maneuvering past the table and through the archway that led into the small living room. There were more empty bottles of alcohol in here, littered across the floor, and a short, fat man was laying on the couch, one arm dangling over the side, clearly out cold. He was shirtless, a blanket draped across his midsection falling to the floor in a lazy sort of way. There was a coffee table with an ashtray on it in the middle of the room, a TV across from the couch, and a calendar of sultry bikini models on the back wall. A few articles of clothing were scattered about the floor, and the whole room smelled faintly of cigarette smoke.

Dante walked over to the sleeping man as Lady examined the room, standing a bit awkwardly on the threshold. He placed a hand on his bare shoulder, shaking it.

"Enzo! Wake up, dude!" He didn't stir. "_Enzo!_"

The man began to stir slightly, groaning. He turned his head away from the noise.

"Uuhh..."

Dante leaned back from the stirring man, taking a seat casually on his coffee table and leaning back, bringing one foot up to rest on the opposite knee. The man shifted around, finally seeming to realize he had company.

"Wha - ? Who's there?" He asked groggily.

"Who do you think, dude?"

The small Italian man brought a hand up and rubbed it across his eyes wearily, groaning. He finally blinked them open, squinting, and they landed on the white-haired youth sitting liesurely on his coffee table.

"You have a party last night or something, Enzo? How come you didn't invite me?"

"Dante? The fuck you doin' in my house?" He grumbled, attempting to sit up and failing, head lying against the armrest. "What's goin' on?"

"Well, uh, see, there's a bit of a problem..."

He blinked his eyes a few times, hands on his temples, and a small trace of panic briefly flashed through them. "Emergency?"

"No, nothing like that." He closed his eyes again, waiting a moment before blearily opening them.

"Then what the hell are you wakin' me up for?"

"I need your help with something."

He sighed, finally managing to sit up slightly, looking weary. "You're not in debt, are you?" Suddenly, he looked pissed off and much more alert. "If you blew all your money bar-hopping, so help me God, I'm gonna - "

"Whoa, calm down, dude. One, _I'm _not the one who spends obscene amounts of cash getting wasted in clubs. At least not every night like _you_. Two, I'm not in debt." He thought for a moment. "Well, actually, I probably am now."

He groaned. "What the hell happened, Dante?"

Dante sighed. "Well, a couple of demons decided they were gonna throw me a surprise party. Actually, it was more like twenty. Anyway, my place is totally destroyed."

"Destroyed?" Enzo asked carefully, with the voice of someone who was gently handling a bomb, trying hard to keep it from going off. "That place gets trashed all the time. How destroyed are we talking?"

"I mean _really _destroyed this time. In complete ruin. Totally uninhabitable." He spoke in a casual voice, as if they were discussing the weather. "Oh, speaking of which, I'm gonna have to crash at your place awhile, 'till it gets fixed. You still have that spare room, right?"

There was a brief pause before the bomb exploded.

"Goddamnit, Dante! How many times is this gonna happen? How hard is it to keep _one _fucking building from falling apart? Do you know how much this is gonna cost? We're gonna be clawin' our way outta bankruptcy! Would it kill your lazy ass to act responsible once in a while? And now you expect me to let you stay here, eatin' me outta house and home? Goddamnit!"

Silence followed the outburst, the short man breathing heavily and looking enraged and Dante merely sitting on the coffee table, not so much as flinching a muscle. His face remained passive. After a moment he spoke, his voice still casual.

"You know, you shouldn't use such language in the presence of a woman. It's rude."

Lady had to bite the inside of her lip to hold back a burst of laughter, both at the look of utter confusion on Enzo's face and the comment itself. As if _Dante_ was one to care about etiquette. Enzo continued to look confused, and then finally seemed to sense the third presence in the room. His eyes shifted towards the entrance and he saw Lady standing there for the first time, watching the scene unfold. His eyes became as wide as saucers and he jumped back as if he'd been shot, grabbing the blanket and clutching it up to his chin, covering himself.

"Shit!" He cried, startled. "What - who - ?"

"That's the other reason I'm here." Dante stood, walking back to the archway. "Enzo, this is Lady. Lady, Enzo. Now that we all know each other, Lady here needs to borrow your car."

Enzo still looked utterly confused, taking in the form of the beautiful but scarred and heavily-armed young woman in front of him. Lady began to feel awkward again, the way she always felt when asking favors from someone.

"Well, I don't really _need _to - " she began.

"Nonsense." Dante cut her off, folding his arms and leaning his back against the wall. "You've got a long way to go."

"It's not _that _long - "

"And I'm sure Enzo here wouldn't mind lending a hand. Would ya, Enzo?"

The man was still staring at her a bit baffled, looking back and forth between the two of them. He suddenly looked tired again. "Uuh..." he rubbed at his temples. "What was your name again? _Lady_?" He said it as if he was sure he must have heard wrong. Well, it _was _an unusual name. He dared to look up at her, addressing her now, still keeping the covers clutched up to his shoulders with one hand. "How is it you know Dante, now?"

Lady opened her mouth to speak, but paused. It was a really, really long story and she wasn't sure exactly how to sum it up, but Dante saved her the trouble.

"She's a devil hunter, too."

Enzo's eyebrows raised a little. "Really." His eyes scanned the girl more thoroughly, taking in the guns holstered to her thighs, the rocket launcher slung over her shoulders, her patched up leg. "Are you, now. Need an agent, by any chance?"

Dante groaned. "Enzo, we didn't come here so you could pimp yourself out, dude."

"Hey, I wasn't talking to you, kid." He looked back at Lady, waiting for a response.

"Uh, no, that's alright. I work independently."

"Good answer." Dante mumbled, though loudly enough for all to hear.

"Hey, I've about had it with you, smartass." Enzo retorted angrily. "Let me have a conversation with your friend here in peace, alright?"

"Fine, whatever, no need to get defensive." Lady had to hold back a snicker. Leaning against the wall, arms folded, he looked just like a rebellious teenager. She couldn't help but feel a bit glad that other people in the world found Dante's immature tendencies as annoying as she did.

He rubbed at his eyes tiredly, sitting up straighter on the couch. "Now what is it you need, darlin'?"

She shifted a bit uncomfortably. "I just...have a pretty far way to go, and my motorcycle got destroyed."

His eyebrows raised slightly. "First Dante's building and now a motorcycle? What exactly have you two been up to?"

"Long story." They said simultaneously.

Enzo shrugged. He'd heard plenty of crazy stories from Dante; he could only imagine what they had been through that left them so weary and ragged looking. "Well, whatever. Sure, you can use my car, honey. I can give you a ride if you don't trust Dante here."

Again, Lady had to hold back a laugh at the defiant look on Dante's face. Also once again, he cut her off before she could speak.

"Keep dreamin', Enzo, _I'm_ givin' the lady a lift."

Lady rolled her eyes, but then smirked. "Don't worry. I'll keep him out of trouble."

Dante glanced over at her, grinning. His eyes were suddenly shining, not unlike the way they had been when they stopped underneath the sunrise. He edged closer to her on the wall, using the same smooth-talking voice he had been unsuccesfully trying on her all day. "Ooh, you gonna reward me if I'm a good boy?"

She turned her head towards him, glaring. "I'm going to _punish _you if you don't shut the hell up." Her grip on the straps of Kalina Ann tightened, as if to emphasize her point.

"Well, hey, the punishment thing works, too, if you're into that kinda stuff - "

"Dante, could you keep your yap shut for five minutes? You're driving me to drink and it's not even eight in the morning yet!"

This time Lady couldn't hold back a small burst of laughter. Dante's face had gotten rather close to hers as he made his advances, and as it swiveled to look at his agent the look on it was comically offended, as if he could hardly believe someone would dare accuse him of having a big mouth. She couldn't stop small bursts of laughter from spilling over her lips at his expression, at the fact that someone was finally attempting to shut Dante up for once, and it felt so good, this laughter. It felt like a best friend that had moved away, that she hadn't seen in years, that was finally coming back for a surprise visit. She realized in the back of her mind with alarm that she couldn't remember the last time she had laughed. _Really _laughed, in innocent amusement, not the hysterical laughter that had poured from her throat up on top of that tower after her she had finally killed her father...

Dante switched his glare back and forth between the agent sitting on his couch and the woman laughing next to him. "Fine, go ahead, gang up on me. You know, the only reason we even came here was to borrow the car, so we should really get going now - "

"Whoa, hey, I'm not just lettin' you kids leave lookin' like that. You look like you've been to Hell and back."

Lady would have laughed at the irony if it weren't so depressingly true. Dante merely scoffed.

"You have _no _idea." He mumbled.

"You must be starving. You want anything to eat?"

It was clear he was mainly addressing Lady, and she shook her head. She _was _starving, but she felt guilty enough just borrowing his car. "No, that's fine, we're not - "

"Hey, yeah, I could eat a whole cow." Dante interrupted. His eyes had lit up at the prospect of food. He headed for the kitchen and in the next moment they heard him rifling through the fridge. "Hey, you got any leftover pizza in here, Enzo?"

Enzo merely sighed, looking exhausted. He looked back up at Lady.

"What about you, honey? You need anything?"

Lady opened her mouth to say no, but when she thought about it, she realized there _was _something she could really use. She suddenly remembered the wound in her thigh, and realized she'd be foolish not to tend to it while she had the opportunity.

"Uh...would you mind if I used your shower?" She gestured down to the tightly bandaged wound on her thigh. "I should really clean this wound..."

His eyes widened slightly for a moment at the prospect of the beautiful woman using his shower, but he soon returned them to his sleepy, half-lidded gaze. "Sure thing, sweetheart. Bathroom is up the stairs, two doors to the left. Take as long as you need."

She offered him a tired smile, still one to be polite no matter how exhausted she was. It was how her mother had raised her to be. "Thank you." She turned and left the room, headed for the stairs, and he got a good look at the huge weapon on her back.

He shook his head. It was crazy, such a huge and deadly-looking weapon being carried by such a small and feminine-looking girl. She was intriguing, that much was for sure.

Dante re-emerged from behind the fridge, arms filled to the brim with jars and containers of food. "Hey, Enzo, you got any mayo?"

Enzo's eyes narrowed. "Goddamnit, Dante, you're buying my groceries next week."

"Yeah, yeah." He returned to the fridge, metallic clinks ringing out as he rearranged things and found items he was looking for. There were no other noises for a moment, and in the relative quiet, they could hear the shower being turned on upstairs. After a moment, confident she wouldn't be able to hear them, Enzo called out.

"Hey, Dante, get in here for a second."

Dante emerged from the kitchen, taking a bite out of the rather large sandwich in his hand. "You're out of mayo." Dante complained. "Don't know how you expect me to make a decent sandwich without - "

"Hey, so what's the deal, huh?" The impatient agent cut him off, and his voice had lowered slightly, as if paranoid she could somehow hear them over the running water. "Who the hell is she?"

Dante swallowed his food, looking confused for a moment. He genuinely pondered the question. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean, what are you talking about, 'who is she'?"

"I mean, _what _is she? Casual acquaintance? Friend? Lover?"

Dante scoffed. "Lover, yeah. She's been shooting me down left and right." He thought for a moment. "Literally."

"When did you meet her? I've never seen her around before, and I'd think I'd know her if she was in this business."

"Just met her last night. Less than 24 hours ago." He shrugged. "She's not really in the 'business', she just hates demons. A lot." He didn't feel like going into the whole story. It was too much to go into after that long night.

Both men were silent for a while, the only noise the distant running water. Dante resumed stuffing his face as Enzo, still clad only in his boxers, got up and began getting dressed, picking up the clothes that had been thrown haphazardly on the floor.

"Well, you must know her pretty well if you're offering to give her a ride home. So what's the deal, huh? You two friends or you just tryin' to get under her skirt?" Enzo asked in a somewhat accusatory tone.

Dante scoffed. "What, is it so hard to believe that I'm just being a nice guy? Look, don't ask for details, but it's been a long-ass night for both of us, and I don't mean because we were getting freaky. And now she's got a long way to go and no way of getting there, and I'm not gonna make her walk when I knew you'd be willing to lend us your car. She'd probably collapse in the street. Plus, it's partly my fault her bike got destroyed in the first place. But don't tell her that or I'll kick your ass." He finished off the last bite of his sandwich, smoothing the crumbs off of his gloves. "Besides, she wouldn't let me in her skirt if I offered cash. She's hot, but she's a total prude."

Enzo chuckled. "Maybe she just doesn't like cocky bastards like you."

Dante glared. "You know, you're just jealous because ladies flock me everywhere I go. And I've never had to pay to get laid, unlike you."

"Yeah, yeah," Enzo grumbled. "Well, nice to see your lucky streak's running out for once."

Dante rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. We'll see."

Silence resumed for a moment, Dante returning to the kitchen to get something to drink. Enzo stretched, returning to the couch, fully clothed. He spoke again when Dante wandered back into the living room with two cans of soda in his hands.

"Strange, though," he muttered. "She looks like she should be in school or something. Not out killing things with that monstrosity on her back. What's her story, anyway?"

Dante shrugged, and they heard the water upstairs shutting off. "Demons fucked up her life and she wants revenge."

Which was almost frighteningly similar to _his_ story, though Enzo didn't know this. Nobody knew. Enzo just thought he was in it for the cash. Yeah, the cash was part of it, but it wasn't the most important part. Not even close.

Enzo wondered what the rest of the story was, but he didn't ask. Dante wasn't going to tell him anything, and in all honesty, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Didn't want to know what could cause a pretty young girl like that to carry those sorts of weapons, to get beat up and scarred the way she was. It was something he'd rather not think about.

Moments later, the sound of boots walking down the stairs interrupted the silence, and both turned towards the stairs where Lady was heading down. Her thigh had been re-bandaged and her hair was still wet, a sign she had taken a full shower. She looked considerably more awake, and when Dante threw the second can of soda at her, she reached out a hand and caught it without so much as flinching a muscle.

"Ready to head out?" Dante leaned back from the wall, started heading for the door.

"Sure." She inspected the can of soda in her hand a bit curiously, as if suspecting it was some kind of trick, but then she looked back up and towards Enzo. "Are you sure you don't mind - "

"Hey, don't worry about it, babe." He cut her off. "Just kick Dante's ass for me if he tries to go joyriding or something, 'kay?"

She smirked, looking over at Dante. "Gladly."

Dante sighed. "Alright, let's just get going, shall we?" He walked through the kitchen, grabbing the keys from the wall near the front door and heading out. Before he left, he stopped and called back, "And hey, start preparing that spare room for me, huh?"

Enzo's face clouded over, suddenly remembering the other reason Dante had stopped by. "Get out of my house, kid."

Lady snickered again, unable to help it. Her gloved hand reached up and grasped the side of the door, and she turned back to Enzo before she left. "Thank you, again."

The dark clouds left his face. "No problem, sweetheart."

She offered him another small smile before leaving, shutting the door behind her. Enzo sighed. She was a good kid, that much was clear, and so was Dante when you got past his more obnoxious tendencies. He wondered again what had happened to them last night, what had left them in the state they were in.

What had happened that left Dante's house destroyed, forcing him to have to endure living with the kid until it got fixed. Weeks, maybe. It could take _weeks. _

Enzo got up and headed for the kitchen. Screw what time it was. He _really _needed something to drink.

**[XV]**

The drive wasn't nearly as awkward as Lady had anticipated it to be. The majority of it involved her giving Dante directions, telling him which way to go, scoping out landmarks to let them know they were in the right place. It was a confusing ride, since she was never entirely sure if they were headed in the right path - she had gotten lost looking for Temen-ni-gru so many times, and she hadn't been paying as much attention to her surroundings as she should have been - but once they reached the interstate she was confident of how to get back home. It was only a matter of time.

So now that they knew where they were going, and were on a long, continuous road, there was silence between them. The front windows were down, the wind whipping through their hair and hissing in their ears, and Dante had tuned the radio onto a classic rock station. The music and the wind ensured that the silence between them wasn't awkward.

He sat with one hand on the wheel, his other arm draped casually out the window. His head was bobbing lightly to the music, along with his knee as he tapped his foot, and his gaze sometimes drifted from the road to out the window. Lady sat in the passenger seat, head leaning back, letting her tired body sink into it. For the most part she kept her eyes focused straight ahead, sometimes glancing around to see where they were, but every now and then they glanced to the left. Just for a second. Just to get a quick glance at him, a quick glance and nothing more.

It was because he just looked so _human _now, and it was intriguing. That was what she told herself, anyway. And it was true; he had removed his sword, his guns, piled them in the backseat along with her rocket launcher, and as he sat there, driving a car, bobbing his head to normal human music, occasionally taking a swig from the can of soda he had brought, he looked just like every other nineteen-year-old male on the planet. Well, except for the white hair. But besides that, just as human as could be. She glanced at him to make sure she was seeing correctly. The more time she spent with him, the more she realized, despite his insane skill, he was by far the most _human _demon she had ever met.

_Half-demon, _part of her mind said, the same part of her mind that reluctantly admitted the other reason she kept stealing glances at him. She could deny it all she wanted, but he _was _a very pleasant sight to look at. The early morning sun was bright, and it glinted in his hair, lit up his skin, emphasizing his jawbone, every line and ripple on his firmly-toned torso. There was no point in trying to pretend that, after the long and emotionally draining day, it didn't feel good to let her eyes drift over him every now and then. It brought about pleasant feelings that she hadn't experienced in years, feelings she thought she wasn't even capable of experiencing anymore.

Not that it _meant _anything, of course. The fluttering warmth in her chest and the lightly burning warmth much further down simply meant that he was a good-looking man. And that was as far as Lady wanted it to go. She had no time for useless things like dating and relationships, nor did she care for them. She had gotten crushes when she was younger, daydreamed sometimes about having boyfriends, and she had wanted to one day get married and have a family of her own. Of course, the day that Mary had died those desires had died, as well. She would be alone for the rest of her life; that was how it had to be. How she _wanted _it to be. She had devoted her life to hunting demons, and that was all she had time for, all she _needed._

Besides, even if she _was _interested in dating someone, it sure as hell wouldn't be Dante. Being good-looking wasn't enough to override the fact that he acted like an obnoxious bastard more often than not. Although a voice inside her argued against this, as well, pointing out how he had never hurt her even as she tried to kill him, how he had shed tears, how he wanted to destroy demons as badly as she did. Of course, she was very quick to shut that particular voice up.

Most of the time she kept her eyes on the road, and her over-alert senses informed her that he glanced at her every now and then, too. Once he had briefly caught her eye as she had glanced over at him, and she had quickly looked away, cringing inwardly as she braced herself for his arrogant comment. But it never came, although she was pretty certain she could see him smirking out of the corner of her eye.

The old brown car continued on its way down the interstate, smoothly maneuvering along until they came across the exit they were looking for. As Dante entered the busy town, everything looked much more familiar. This was where Lady had been staying since her mother had died, and the house where she lived was only a short walk from here. For some reason, she felt uncomfortable with the idea of Dante knowing exactly where she lived, of driving right up to her driveway, and as he maneuvered through the town, she decided she was close enough.

"You can let me out around here," she informed him.

He furrowed his eyebrows, turning his head towards her. "Where do you live?"

"A short walk from here."

"You don't want me to bring you right to your house?"

"No, that's fine. We're close enough."

He shrugged. "Hey, whatever, Lady." He glanced around at all the stores and restaurants lining the road. "You wanna stop and get something to eat first? I'm starving."

It was her turn to furrow her eyebrows in confusion. "I thought you ate something at Enzo's house."

"Yeah, so? I'm still hungry." She rolled her eyes, which didn't go unnoticed. "And don't even start telling me _you're _not hungry."

"I can eat at my house."

He shrugged. "Do whatever you want, but I'm stopping somewhere whether you join me or not. Your choice."

She hesitated as he continued scanning the area, looking for a good place to stop. She _was _hungry. It felt like her empty stomach had begun eating itself. And food from a restaurant would probably taste so much more satisfying than something cold from her fridge...her mouth began to water at the very prospect...

He eventually settled on a small pizza place with a flashing neon sign. He pulled the car into a parking space along the sidewalk in front of the establishment and turned the engine off before turning to look at her.

"How about it? You like pizza?"

She hadn't had pizza for years, since childhood. She hardly remembered what it tasted like, though she knew she had enjoyed it at some point. And she wasn't exactly feeling super picky right now anyway.

She shrugged. "Sure."

He grinned, and she wasn't sure if it was because he was looking forward to the pizza or the fact that she would be joining him. They stepped out of the car and began walking towards the building, but he suddenly reached out and gently grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"Whoa, you might wanna leave your guns in the car, unless you feel like spending the night in a jail cell."

She looked down at herself. She had completely forgotten about the guns holstered to her body. She took them with her everywhere - they felt like part of her now. But he was right; unless she wanted to attract some seriously unwanted attention, they had to be removed. She did just that, unholstering the weapons and placing them in the backseat along with the others. After, Dante locked the door and the two walked into the small cafe, the little bells above the door chiming.

Immediately, she was hit by an aroma so tantalizing it set her taste buds on overdrive, making her mouth water in anticipation. She focused on that as they walked over to a booth, as they sat down and a perky waitress came over, handing them laminated menus, and she let herself focus on the list of prices and meals so she wouldn't focus on the stupid thoughts that were invading her head. Namely, the fact that her heart had done a strange sort of dropping thing when Dante had reached out and grasped her arm, and ever since she'd been thinking about his hands, marveling at the strength they held and how they could still be so gentle at the same time.

Which was a _stupid _thing to think about. A ridiculous thing, actually. The only reason her heart had dropped was because he had startled her, and the only reason she was thinking about his hands was because she was still in that frame of mind from when she'd been checking him out in the car. It was disgusting, acting like some lovestruck teenager or something. She was delirious from her lack of sleep, that must have been it. She just needed to stop being so stupid. _Stupid, stupid, stupid..._

"Lady? Hello?"

She lowered the menu from her face, snapping out of her thoughts about how stupid her thoughts were. "What?"

"I said, do you want to get one big pizza or two small ones?"

"Oh, um...two small ones."

"Alright, then." He returned his eyes to his own menu, glancing over it briefly before folding it and leaning back, sighing in a relaxed sort of way. She looked back at her own menu, realizing she hadn't even read any of it yet.

"So, what's your favorite topping?" He annoyingly interrupted her concentration once again.

"Uh...I don't know. I haven't had pizza in years." She responded, keeping the menu held in front of her face.

"_Years_?" He sounded as if she had just informed him she could survive without oxygen. "Damn, no wonder you seem so moody, living without pizza for so long."

She lowered the menu now, shooting him a piercing glare above it. "_Moody_?"

"Well, yeah. Like right now, you're giving me the evil eye. You're kind of creepy, Lady."

"How about I'm _moody _because you're an annoying jerk? Did that thought ever cross your mind?"

"Well - "

"Or maybe I was _moody _today because I was a little preoccupied with hunting down my father, who _killed _my mother so he could be the ruler of Hell! Did you ever think of _that_?"

"Whoa, hey, calm down." The joking smirk had melted off of his face and he raised his hands in self-defense. "I was just kidding, you know."

She sighed, returning the menu to its position in front of her face. Maybe she _was _a little too moody. Well, she figured she had a right to be, after everything that had happened that day. After everything that had happened over the course of her life, actually. She heard Dante sighing again, and _now _the silence between them began to feel a little awkward. Fortunately, a waitress appeared the next moment to intervene.

"You two ready to order?"

Dante glanced at Lady before bringing the menu back in front of his face. "Uh, yeah, I think so. Two small pizzas, make mine with ham and potatoes. And make sure no one puts olives on it."

The waitress wrote briefly on her notepad before turning to Lady. "And you, miss?"

Lady thought back, trying to remember the last time she had even eaten pizza. The memory suddenly returned to her, and she recalled with perfect clarity the topping she had loved the most, the thought of which set her mouth watering again.

"I'll have green peppers on mine."

The waitress added it to her notes, and after they ordered drinks she took their menus and left them alone, and now with no barriers to hide behind.

They were both silent for a while, Lady looking absentmindedly at the condiments on the table, Dante tapping his fingers to the light music playing in the background and checking out the waitresses. Lady had something she wanted to say, something that had been nagging at her heart since she had reunited with Dante after killing her father. She felt like she needed to say it, and she knew she'd feel guilty if she didn't. She had to do it now, had to do it in this restaurant, because after they would part ways and she could very well never see him again. She had to clear her conscience. They made occasional conversational chatter as they waited for their food to be made, but for the most part, neither spoke. She planned what she wanted to say in her head, trying to wait for the right moment.

Finally, after what felt like years to the two hungry youths, the pizzas arrived.

"Alright!" Dante wasted no time, ripping a piece from the plate in front of him and shoving it into his mouth before Lady's plate was even placed all the way in front of her. The waitress raised her eyebrows slightly at him, but grinned when Lady thanked her, rolling her eyes at Dante, and then left them alone.

Lady's senses kicked into overdrive at the sight, the smell, the warmth of the food in front of her, and everything about it hit her with a wave of nostalgia. She remembered the last time she had had pizza in front of her with crystal clarity now. It had been summertime. They had been outside. She had been very young, and she could suddenly remember everything - the smell of the grass as the breeze lightly whipped through it, the birds singing, the cool sturdiness of the picnic table in the backyard, her mother's laughter floating over the air as smooth as crystal glass at the look on Lady's face when a long strand of cheese ripped off, hitting her in the chin, causing her small and then-unscarred nose to scrunch up as she giggled.

She felt her throat constricting and despite the taste of the pizza - exactly as delicious as she had remembered - her mouth felt bitter. She wondered how many times today she was going to get lost in memories, how many times in her life she was going to let the past haunt her -

And then suddenly a long, gooey strand of cheese stretched from the piece in her hands to her mouth, and it ripped off, landing on her chin. Her eyes widened almost comically and she brought a hand up, holding it in front of her face, but it didn't go unnoticed.

Dante burst into laughter, his own slice of pizza already almost down to the crust. She could feel her face growing as warm as the food in front of her.

"Hey, at least you still remember how to _eat_ pizza, huh?" He said, grinning. "It's supposed to be messy, that's part of the fun."

She used her tongue to maneuver the cheese back into her mouth, hand still hand in front of her face, and she couldn't help but grin lightly. Dante suddenly looked much younger again as he finished off the piece in his hands greedily, and by the time she had dared to lower her hand he already had a second piece in his. However, he paused before bringing it to his mouth as she took another, more careful bite.

"You know I was kidding before, right?" He asked. "About the whole 'moody' thing. I wasn't trying to piss you off."

She felt guilty suddenly for blowing up at him, and she figured it was now or never.

"Yeah, I know." She paused a moment, feet shifting a bit uncomfortably on the floor. "Look, Dante...I think I owe you an apology."

He ripped a strand of cheese from his own pizza, not bothering to hide as it fell across his face. "I should say so. I was just trying to be funny - "

"Not about _that_, dumbass." She cut him off, irritated, but then her features softened as she continued. "I meant...about some of the things I said earlier today." He was silent, and she took it as her sign to continue. "Namely, about how I accused you of not understanding family. I just...assumed since you were a demon, you'd be like all the others. But, it's obvious you're not, so...I'm sorry."

There was silence between them for a moment, and his face suddenly looked grave. Once again, she found herself amazed at the contrast between how young and immature he could seem and how old he could look.

"Well, it's alright." He said finally. "Most demons _don't _care about things like family. I can assure you I'm in the minority."

She nodded slowly, and felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. He knew she was sorry, and what was more, he wasn't even angry with her. She relaxed as she felt a sense of peace and relief, and they resumed eating in silence for moment.

However, something else was still on her mind. Not something she _needed _to say, just something she was very curious about...something she really wanted to know, and she needed to know before they parted ways, because if she never saw him again than she'd just be left in curiosity forever...

"So..." she began, not entirely sure how to word what she wanted to say. It was a sensitive topic. "What exactly happened in the Demon World, anyway?"

"In regards to what?"

She knew what happened to her father. Whatever he had done, however much power he had gained, Dante had ultimately defeated him, and then of course she had finished him off herself. She was more interested in the fate of his twin brother.

"I mean...what happened to Vergil? You met up with him in the Demon World, didn't you?"

Dante was looking down now, eyes avoiding her, and he seemed to be absentmindedly playing with one of his gloves. "Yeah. I didn't kill him, if that's what you're getting at."

She felt a small twinge of fear, and it must have shown on her face because Dante cut off her thoughts when he looked up. "Don't worry, he stayed in the Demon World. I don't really think he'll be coming back. He's strong, but at the end of the day he's still half-human, like me. I doubt he's a match against some of the pure demons that live in that place, at least not in their natural environment. Especially considering how many of them there are."

His voice was traced with a dull sort of despair, and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "So, is his half-human side the reason the other demons wouldn't accept him? I mean, I guess I don't know anything about this, but wouldn't they want to work _with _him to help take over the Human World?"

Dante shook his head. "No, it's not just because of the half-human thing. Well, that's part of it, but the main reason is because he's the son of Sparda. You've heard the legend, I assume?"

"Yeah, Sparda rebelled against his own kind to save the humans."

Dante nodded. "Yeah, well, demons don't take to traitors very nicely. Sparda's dead now, but they're all still pissed. And since me and Vergil are his only blood relations, guess who gets to take the fall?"

Lady nodded. She had never really thought of it that way, and she suddenly felt sorry for Dante. Maybe the reason he had developed such amazing skills wasn't just because of Sparda's blood running through his veins - maybe it was because he'd gotten plenty of practice, since demons probably tried to kill him everywhere he went.

"And besides," he continued. "Vergil's kind of a loner. He only works with people if he really thinks he can use them. Even if the other demons didn't want to kick his ass, my guess is that he'd still mostly work alone." He shrugged. "He's pretty strong on his own, anyway."

Lady thought back to when she had walked in on them fighting. "Yeah, it looked like you two were evenly matched."

"We were." He paused for a moment. "If I'm lucky to have survived anything today, it's him. I wasn't really sure I'd be coming back from the Demon World. I had a feeling we were going to finish each other off." He shrugged again, sighing now. "But, you know, I didn't care. We all have our things we think are worth dying for. For him it was gaining power, for me it was making sure he _didn't_."

Lady was silent. His attitude was remarkably similar to hers. In fact, hadn't she been thinking the same thing after her father had fooled her, after she had run towards Vergil with the intention of killing him? She'd been thinking about how she'd be willing to fight to the death, be willing to give her life in battle if she had to.

It was true. Everyone, no matter what side of the spectrum they fell on, had a cause they would be willing to give their life to. For those like Vergil, it was things like power and might. For those like her and Dante, it was justice, putting a stop to evil, ensuring the safety of the innocent. The knowledge that they were on the same side of the spectrum just filled her with more peace, more warmth that went straight to the core of her heart and had nothing to do with the pizza they were eating.

Neither brought up Vergil or demons again, switching onto more light-hearted topics. They finished the food fairly quickly, Dante finishing much sooner than Lady and stealing peppers off of the pieces she had left, much to her annoyance. It wasn't until the waitress came by and left the bill that she suddenly realized something.

"Crap. I don't have any money." She checked her pockets, though she knew there was none left.

"Hey, don't sweat it, babe, I'm paying."

Oh, great, more guilt from other people doing things for her. "Well, maybe I can pay you back - "

"Hey, don't worry about it. You know the guy always pays."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "This isn't a _date, _you know."

"So? You know me, always the one to do the gentlemanly thing."

She scoffed. "Don't make me laugh."

He did pay, though, unzipping a small pocket on the inside of his long coat and pulling out some cash, winking at the waitress before the two of them left the small cafe. Now that she'd eaten something, Lady felt much more alert, more than capable of making the small walk home. Dante started up the car as she removed her weapons from the backseat. She holstered the guns to her skirt, her thigh, and finally heaved Kalina Ann out of the car with a groan, slinging it onto its rightful spot on her back. Dante stood next to the door by the driver's seat, arms folded.

"Thanks for driving me." She said as she adjusted the weapon's straps. "And for paying."

"Don't sweat it. You sure you don't want me to take you to your house?"

"No, I'll be fine from here."

He shrugged. "Whatever you say, Lady." She closed the door to the backseat, certain she had everything she needed. She stood for a moment, unsure of what to do.

"So what happens next?" He asked her.

She shrugged. "My job isn't finished yet. I have to keep hunting demons." Her face darkened considerably. "I don't want there to ever be anyone like my father again."

He nodded. "Well, that's what I'll be doing, too. Guess we're gonna have to split 'em between us."

A small smile graced her features. "Guess so."

The thought filled her with hope. With Dante working to take out the demons along with her, they didn't stand a chance. Contrary to how she had felt earlier that day, she was suddenly glad he existed. He was going to help her make the world a better place.

So she smiled, and she hid the pang she felt when she realized she may very well never see him again. Of course, you never knew, especially since they had such a common mission, but she still wanted to work alone. She'd be too busy for friends.

_Or lovers, _another voice said, which she chose to ignore.

"So, am I gonna see you around or what?"

"Hmm, maybe." She said cryptically, trying to sound as if she didn't care either way.

He had gotten into the front seat by now. She looked down at him through the open window, which he draped an arm across.

"Well..." he looked as if he were struggling to find the right words to say. "Just be careful, alright? Don't forget that you're human."

She scoffed. "I'm more than capable of handling myself."

He chuckled lightly. "I have no doubt."

She nodded, couldn't stop another small smile from forming on her face. Something in her mind told her that the less she looked at him, the less they said, the less this was going to hurt, so she decided to make it brief.

"I should get going."

"Me too." He leaned back inside the car. "So, I'll be seeing you, then?"

She nodded. "Yeah. See you around."

He nodded back, and after a moment she turned and left, walking down the sidewalk with her gloves clutching Kalina Ann's straps a bit more tightly than she intended, her boots loud against the concrete as she hurried forward, not looking back.

Since she kept her eyes focused straight ahead, she wasn't aware that he stayed sitting there, watching her until he couldn't see her anymore, before driving out into the road and starting back home.


	16. You're bleeding

**A/N: **It might be hard to see how the title/theme of this chapter is related, but it is. Think of it in a metaphorical sense, not a literal sense. For the record, don't ask me why Dante is allowed to drink when he's only 19. I don't know, but it seems to be implied that he does, so I'm rolling with it. Maybe he has a fake ID. Or maybe it doesn't matter because this is the DMCverse where logic is optional. :P Also, I thought I'd note that this is the first chapter that is actually worthy of the M rating. Finally.

* * *

**_Chapter Sixteen - "You're Bleeding..."_**

**[XVI]**

_The look on her face was what did it, what sent fear drilling into his very core._

_She had always had porcelain skin. It made her look beautiful, like a china doll that was firm but delicate at the same time. But now it wasn't pale in a beautiful way; it was pale in a way that made it look as though all the color had drained from her face, as if she had been stricken by something cold and relentless. But what was worse was her blue eyes. Wide with fear, wide with pure, uncensored panic. Her face had never looked like that before. Sometimes in the middle of the night, when they heard a strange noise, a small wave of fear would pass over her delicate features, but then she'd peek outside, see that it was a cat, or some neighborhood kids, and the sunshine would return to her face. Nothing to worry about. Everything was fine. Dante had always wondered what it was she was expecting to find when the fear briefly crossed over her face, but he never thought it was anything to worry about. _

_But now her face was filled with the utmost terror, pure, unrelenting fear. Everything in her movements was traced with panic, hysteria, as she pulled him into the living room, long blonde hair flying around her, and as he listened to the rumbles outside, felt the house shaking, saw the panic on her face, fear penetrated his heart with a metal fist and spread burning fire to every cell in his body, and he could only think one thing._

Oh God they're finally here the things the THINGS she was always looking for they're finally here and we're going to die -

_She let out a small cry as they heard a huge crash in the back of the house, in the kitchen they had just left. Something had burst through the wall; the house trembled, they heard the debris falling. Something was IN the house with them, something was chasing them, and Dante stumbled as he tried to pause as another thought hit him._

Vergil, where's Vergil? Where -

_"Run away, Dante!" She yelled, and her voice held as much panic as her face. She held his arm tight, almost dragging him across the floor, and Dante realized with more horror he could hear growling, he could see shadows moving, glowing eyes, a monster, a monster was coming - _

_She shoved him into a large crack in the wall, the crack that had always been there that he had wondered why they never bothered to fix, the crack that was just large enough to fit two children. She shoved him in, and he squeezed into the small space, wide, terrified eyes looking back at his mother as a sickening realization hit him. There wasn't enough room for her. There wasn't enough room - _

_"You must never come out! No matter what, you must hide!" _

_He shook his head, unaware that he was even doing so. No, there had to be another hiding place, a place the two of them could hide together - _

_"Listen to me, Dante!" Her voice was hysterical, desperate, pleading. "NO MATTER WHAT!"_

_And then she was ripped away from him, his stomach plummeting as he saw a shadow-like claw steal her away, and then there was blood, oh God it was BLOOD in the air and she was screaming, she was screaming so loud, he had never heard a scream that loud before, and he knew they were hurting her, and every cell and pore in his body screamed at him to move, to help his mother, but his body was frozen stiff, and her scream rang in his ears as the air filled with the smell of smoke, of burning sulfur, of ash, and there was growling and claws and glowing eyes and so much fucking BLOOD -_

_"She's dead." The voice was unnatural, low and growly, something straight out of a monster movie, except it was real life. He felt it rumbling in his heart."Sparda's woman. The human woman."_

_"All of them?" Another voice, there were _two _of them, it sounded just like the last but it was from another end of the room._

_"Yes. We've killed them all."_

_The words struck his heart, sending a fresh wave of cold fear washing over him. Dead. Killed. _

_Dead._

_His arms were clutching his knees to his chest in a death grip, and as he heard the monsters leave, smelled the smoke and ash, saw the burned floor spotted with red, he knew it was all a dream, it had to be, except he knew it wasn't because the violent trembling of his bones hurt too much for it to be fake. _

_It seemed like years that he sat there, huddled alone in the wall, fighting back the urge to vomit, the newfound silence ringing in his ears. But they didn't come back, and he had to come out now, because his mother couldn't really be dead, he knew she had survived somehow, and Vergil, he was hiding somewhere, too - _

_So he crawled out, and he looked at the house. It looked like a fire had burned it. The walls, the floor, were black and charred. Some of the walls had crumbled away, except that wasn't the right word, they had actually been TORN away, as if a giant had reached down and decided to pull a chunk off. But the house didn't matter, the house wasn't so bad, it was what he saw on the floor. Ashes. Ashes and blood. Some of the ashes could be the furniture, but some of it...some of it..._

People can get cremated when they die, _a voice inside him said. _They can turn into ashes.

_And the blood, the blood everywhere. No bodies. No bodies to be found. He wandered among the broken down house, the blood and the ashes, looking for signs of life, looking for SOMETHING, ANYTHING, but there was nothing, except in the ash he saw a trace of gold, and oh God it couldn't be, it COULDN'T, but that was her golden hair, he just knew, streaks of golden hair lying in the ash and blood, but that was all, that was all - _

_"Mom?" His voice was a whisper. "Vergil?"_

_No one answered._

_The jukebox stood in the corner, and there was blood splattered against the wall right next to it. That corner, that jukebox, held happy memories, memories of sitting around, singing along to the music, laughing, playful fighting over which record to listen to, and now that happy corner had blood, HER blood, all over it - _

_And he was just a frail little boy, weak body trembling, and he couldn't think, couldn't breathe. It didn't make any sense. He didn't believe it, he REFUSED to believe it, believe that she was really gone from him, forever and ever and always, never to come back again. He would realize it hours later, when the police found him, when he was being questioned by social workers, THEN it would hit him full throttle, the realization that his mother and twin were gone for ever and ever, and THEN he would be crying, THEN he would be screaming, THEN he would be ripping the flesh of his arms with his own nails and leaving wounds that disappeared in the next few minutes, and THEN he would be feeling an utter agony that was so big it couldn't even fit inside his small body - _

_But for the moment he didn't feel much of anything. His fear had subsided and he stood in shock, looking at the destruction, not really daring to think anything at all -_

_And then suddenly he was standing in a river, water rapidly rushing past his boots, and the sun was shining brightly, or something was, anyway, with a weird sort of glow, and he wasn't a little boy anymore, he was tall and strong, and his mom was still dead, but Vergil, Vergil was still alive._

_His twin stood in front of him, and he was grown-up now, too, tall and strong, just the same. And his heart filled with hope, and happiness, because he wasn't alone anymore, his brother was alive after all, he had survived, he wasn't dead -_

_But Vergil wasn't smiling. He wasn't happy to see him. His eyes were hard, cold. And he was falling. He was falling backwards, falling over the edge of the cliff, down into a bad place, the same place that the monsters came from, and he reached out a hand, reached out a hand to catch him, he couldn't lose him again, not after he had lost him once, this was all he had left -_

_But he slashed at him with his katana, sending a burning pain through his outstretched hand and causing him to bring it back, alarmed. He had cut him, his brother had cut him when he had been trying to help him, to save him. His palm poured blood through the new slit in his glove, and he ran to the edge anyway, ran to the edge just to see him fall, and his brother grew smaller and smaller, falling into the darkness, into the bad place, and then he was just a speck, and then he was gone, gone forever._

_"No one can have this, Dante. It's mine. It belongs to a son of Sparda."_

_"This place was our father's home."_

_Their father's home...their father's home...but their father was gone, just like their mother, and now his brother, too. All gone._

_Gone forever. _

_Gone._

**[XVI]**

Dante's body jolted as he woke, bare torso covered in a cold sweat. He sat up quickly, disoriented. The dream had been so _real. _He could see it, smell it, feel it, like it had all been happening. Maybe because it _had _happened. It hadn't been a dream, not really. It had been memories more than anything else.

He could feel his heart thudding thickly against his chest at a steady rate and he looked around. He was on an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, and it took him a moment to remember he was at Enzo's house, in the spare bedroom. His coat was hung up on a hook, his boots on the floor next to the bed. He brought a gloved hand up and rubbed at his temples before leaning forward, resting his forehead against his palms. His pulse was still pounding in his ears. It was just a nightmare, dreams didn't usually get him this worked up -

And then he realized he could feel the cool sweat of his forehead on his palm, even though his gloves were still on. He ripped his hands away from his head and sure enough, there it was, a slit running right across the palm of the glove, just like it had happened in the dream, because the dream was actually a memory. Suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, he ripped the glove off violently, followed by the other one, and threw them onto the ground near his boots. They hit the floor with a smack, and he leaned his head into his hands again, feeling his throat constricting. There was dull anger burning in him, but the desire to cry was much stronger, and he fought it back with everything he had, keeping his eyes closed. He had already cried once today, and he remembered how Lady had seen him and felt a pang of shame. Although she had been so nice about it...

_"Even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one..."_

The thought comforted him a little, and he allowed it to calm him down, forcing back the memories, forcing back the bile in his throat that came with the thought of his mother's golden hair on the floor...

After a few minutes of steady breathing he lifted his head, eyes opening. The overwhelming emotions had simmered down, and he could feel a deep, dull sadness settling on him, one that was all too familiar. He leaned back for a moment, resting against the headboard, rubbing his eyes. He wondered what time it was, what Enzo was doing. What Lady was doing. She would be home by now, surely. She had probably fallen asleep, too. He wondered if she'd had any nightmares, and if she did, if they were about her mother's death. If she wasn't dreaming about it that night, she'd probably had nightmares about it before. This thought made him suddenly long for her to be in the room with him, sitting next to him on the bed. Normally when he wanted girls to be in bed with him it was because he wanted to sleep with them, but he didn't think about sleeping with Lady. He thought about her sitting next to him, and the two of them talking, empathizing with one another, comforting each other.

That was what had killed him all throughout his childhood, his early teen years. There had been no one there for him, no one to understand, no one to talk to. He had been alone, and he soon grew to hate himself as he learned the truth about his heritage, learned that half of the blood in his veins belonged to the same race that had slaughtered his mother. He would have killed to have someone to understand him in those times. It would have been a beautiful miracle. Things had grown better over time, but now, as he sat half-naked on a bed that wasn't his, he could feel a nostalgic sort of sadness settling on his soul. But he _had _someone now, there w_as _someone in the world who could understand him, if only a little bit. But it didn't make a difference because she had already walked out of his life; he would probably never see her again.

He sighed, sliding out of bed, stepping into his boots and stretching. This was just a temporary thing, it had to be. Brought on by bad dreams, bad memories, and nothing more. It had been a long night, a _bad _night, but it would pass soon enough. There was the future, after all; yeah, his shop was broken down right now, but once it was repaired, he could officially open up a business. Then it would be demon-killing all the time, bringing him further on his path of vengeance against those who had ruined his life. But the thought didn't fill him with as much hope as it should have; he still felt a sort of empty sadness, the pain of old scars bleeding.

Well, maybe he didn't have anyone to talk to, but he had the next best thing: alcohol.

He opened the door to his room and walked out into the upstairs hallway, hair hanging lazily in his eyes. Twilight streamed in through the windows; it was already almost dark again. He clomped down the stairs and into the kitchen, opening the fridge. Enzo was sitting on the couch in the living room, TV on, talking to someone on the phone. It all faded to background noise as the hum of the fridge filled his ears when he stuck his head in, looking for something to drink. He looked over the food, the condiments, the milk and the juice, and when he didn't find what he was looking for, he opened the freezer. His eyebrows furrowed when he realized there was nothing in there, either. He turned, looking at the countertops, the tables, but all that sat there were the empty bottles from before. He leaned over the fridge, towards the living room.

"What the hell, Enzo?" He called, pissed. "You're the biggest drunk I know. How the hell is there nothing alcoholic in this house?"

The short man covered the bottom half of the phone, glaring. "Dante, I'm on the phone, goddamnit!"

He grumbled, searching the fridge again, but he didn't find anything worth stealing. Dante slammed the door closed. In the next moment the chatter of Enzo talking in the background died away, and he walked into the kitchen, pissed.

"Now what the hell were you yammering about?"

"There's no pizza _or _beer in this entire fridge." Dante complained. "I thought you were supposed to be Italian."

He looked taken aback, arching an eyebrow at Dante's irrititableness. He had gotten used to mood swings over the years - he had found Dante when he was quite young, after all, and he had had a _lot _of issues then - but he hadn't expected to see such dark clouds in the boy's eyes.

"What's your problem, kid?"

"Quit calling me _kid. _And I just wanted to get buzzed, that's all, and I figured _you _of all people would have something worth drinking."

"Hey, that stuff ain't cheap, you know. I'm fresh out. Besides, you know I go out to drink, most of it doesn't make it through the front door."

Dante sighed tiredly, pushing his hair out of his eyes, and Enzo saw just how weary he really looked.

"What's really bugging you, Dante?" His voice had softened a little.

"_Nothing, _nothing's wrong. I just haven't gotten plastered in months and I think I'm overdue." He pulled out a chair, sitting down at the table, and Enzo joined him, looking a bit wary. Dante hadn't been drinking nearly as much for the past few months - well, at least that's what Enzo assumed. Dante was more independent these days, and they didn't speak nearly as often. Still, he knew that he had made a big improvement over the years. Dante used to drink almost as religiously as he did; now, he only drank casually, rarely even getting drunk, and his sudden interest in getting hammered, combined with the darkness lurking behind his eyes, was worrisome.

However, before Enzo could question anything, he changed the subject.

"So what's the deal with my house? You make any calls?"

"Yeah, yeah, I made some calls. It'll get fixed. It's gonna cost, though."

"How much?"

"Pretty much everything in your bank account."

Dante sighed. "Shit. Well, not like I expected anything less, anyway."

"Hey, you can still take jobs in the meantime, start making more cash. And once it's repaired, you can officially start your business. Long as you keep taking jobs, you'll earn back what you lost soon enough." Dante didn't respond, staring into space. His head was somewhere else. "You think of a name to call that joint yet?" Enzo continued.

"Nah, not yet."

"Well, keep thinking. You better come up with something good."

Dante shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, as long as they know _my _name. My customers aren't exactly the types to be picky. How many other demon hunters do you see setting up shop around here?"

"True. Though you're gonna miss out on some serious cash if you keep limiting your jobs to just demonic - "

"I don't care."

He cut him off roughly, more roughly than normal. They had fought about this countless times; it was their main area of disagreement. Enzo wanted cash. He thought Dante was a fool not to take ANY job that was offered to him, whether it involved the paranormal or not. Dante, on the other hand, didn't seem to care too much about money. He never wanted to take "normal" or "boring" jobs, regardless of how much was being offered for them. On the other hand, he'd take anything involving demonic forces that came his way, even if very little money was invovled. Enzo loved money almost as much as the booze and women he spent it on, and didn't understand Dante's way of thinking.

However, one thing he _did _understand was that something was getting him down, and he hated seeing that. Dante pissed him off endlessly, but he cared about the kid a lot. They'd known each other for years now, and when he first found Dante he was completely alone, careless, sort of stumbling his way through life without rhyme or reason. He had changed so much over the years, and even though he was really still just a cocky and sometimes clueless kid, he had grown up a lot. Enzo didn't like the look in his eyes. It reminded him of the old Dante too much. After a minute of somewhat awkward silence, Enzo sighed and continued talking.

"Hey, look, I don't know what happened last night, or what's going on with you, but I say we get the hell out of this house and go have some fun."

Dante arched an eybrow, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back, propping his feet up on the table. "What did you have in mind?"

He shrugged. "Where do we normally go?"

"Love Planet's currently in ruin. The same demons that crashed my house decided to bring the party to the whole town."

Enzo's eyes widened. "Shit, are you serious? Guess I shouldn't have blamed you after all."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have."

Enzo sighed. "Well, forget Love Planet. I know another place we can go. Real close to here anyway."

"Yeah? Where's that?"

"Little joint nearby. It's not as ritzy as Love Planet, but it's got a bar, a dance floor, and women."

"Well, if it's got a bar, that's good enough for me." He leaned forward, feet clomping down onto the floor. "Lead the way."

**[XVI]**

The club was an explosion of light and noise, something that normally made Dante feel energetic, eager, ready to go, but tonight it didn't really phase him in one way or the other. Colorful lights flashed, lighting up the dance floor, which was filled with sweaty bodies, jumping, dancing, grinding. Techno beats pulsed through the air. Scattered around the room were well-lit platforms, too small to hold much except a pole and a single woman dancing around it. Unlike Love Planet where the women were the main focus, getting them to undress as much as possible being the main activity, the dancers here were more like decorations, adding more fuel to the fire of the people on the dance floor. Their outfits, though far from modest, weren't nearly as revealing. Where Love Planet radiated sex appeal, this place radiated energy and sexual tension, thick like humidity in the air.

But Dante didn't feel like dancing, and for once, didn't feel like ogling the dancers and attempting to pick any of them up. He was most interested in the dark corner in the back, where a shiny mahogany bar and plenty of liquor was waiting for him. He and Enzo passed the noisy floor, reaching their destination and taking a seat at the bar stools. Soon enough, a cold glass was placed in front of him and he drank up eagerly, feeling comforted by the familiar burning in his throat, the bitter taste, and as soon as his head began buzzing his spirits lifted just a little, and he wondered why he hadn't done this in so long.

Enzo was already done his second glass by the time Dante was through with his first, and he sighed, letting out a hearty belch.

"Good shit, huh?"

"Mmm." Dante murmured in nonchalant agreement. Enzo drank like a fiend; Dante often wondered if beer would come pouring out of his belly if he poked a hole in it.

Enzo spun around in his chair, leaning his back against the bar and resting his elbows on it, glass held in one hand. His eyes scanned over the dance floor, coming to rest on one of the women dancing on a platform nearby.

"Got some nice ladies here, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm. So, see any you wanna go after?"

"Nah."

Enzo swiveled his head to look at him, eyebrows bunched together in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah, I don't feel like making the effort tonight."

"Hmm. Well, that's a change."

"Yeah, well, that leaves 'em all for you. Good luck, though, and you're gonna need it. I doubt these chicks are as easy as the ones at Love Planet, regardless of how much cash you offer."

Enzo grumbled. "Yeah, well, we'll see."

"Mmm." Dante resumed silence, sipping at his drink, leaning with his back against the bar as well. Both men were silent for a moment, Dante tapping his foot (which was resting against his knee) to the pulsing beats and Enzo tracing the curves of the nearby dancers with his eyes. Finally, Enzo placed another empty glass on the counter with a clink, turning to Dante and sliding off the stool.

"You alright with me leaving you alone?"

Dante scoffed. "I'm a big boy, Enzo, I don't need you to hold my fucking hand."

"Hey, no need to get snappy, I'm just looking out for ya, kid. I may be a drunk, but I'm not stupid. Something's wrong with you."

"Yeah, well, it's nothing. Just had a bad dream last night, that's all." He took another gulp, the liquid searing down his throat, head buzzing pleasantly.

He sighed. "Whatever ya say, Dante. If you need me, come hunt me down. If not, head back to the house without me."

"Whatever."

Grumbling, Enzo left, presumably to look for some female companionship, Dante figured. Well, screw it, he didn't need him. And he didn't need any girls, either. He didn't need anyone, just himself, himself and the contents of the cold glass in his hand. The more his head swam, the more optimistic he began to feel. It wasn't a big deal, really. Just one bad dream. One bad dream and that was all. The solution was simple; keep drinking and drinking and then go home and go to sleep, and then when he woke the next morning, he wouldn't remember a thing. Not this night, not the dream, not anything, and once he got past the hangover (which was never as bad for him as for normal people) he'd be back to his regular self. No more of this feeling depressed crap, no more mourning his brother, no more thinking about the past. It would all be over by tomorrow.

_See? Don't even need Lady, _he thought, mind beginning to unhinge a little. _She left me, anyway. Well, screw it, I don't need her. Don't need anyone._

For a while he sat alone, tapping his foot to the music and looking at the people walking by in an uninterested sort of way. He felt his body, his mind, relaxing, leaning casually against the bar, coat falling away from his bare torso. This felt good. This felt _damn _good. He wondered again why it had been so long since he'd done this, and he drank refill after refill until he felt thoroughly light-headed, beginning to cross the border from buzzed into drunk. It wasn't until he was treading carefully on this line that someone approached him.

"Dante?"

He turned, and his eyes widened in surprise. A woman stood before him next to the bar, one he knew quite well. She was clearly a dancer, as indicated by her outfit - the same silver hotpants and bikini top all the others wore, paired with knee-length boots. She was beautiful in an almost exotic sort of way, long hair falling past her shoulders. He had known her for about a year now. She was a stripper at Love Planet, one he had been intimate with on more than one occasion.

"Veronica?" He wondered if he was seeing right, wondered what she'd be doing here. Well, working, clearly, but she already had a job, at least the last time he had seen her. Though truthfully that hadn't been in a while.

"It _is _you!" She offered him a grin before leaning foward to embrace him, a hug which he returned a bit awkwardly, as it caught him off guard. Though of course he never minded the opportunity to hold a beautiful woman in his arms. He trailed a hand down her back smoothly and she pulled away, arms still linking over his shoulders. "I haven't seen you around in _months_! Where have you been?"

He rested a hand on her waist and chuckled. "Been busy. Real question is, what the hell are you doing _here_?"

"What do you think? I work here." She took a seat on the stool next to him, ordering a drink for herself.

"What about Love Planet? It only got destroyed, like, last night. That's awfully quick to switch jobs."

She almost choked on her drink, eyes widening briefly before turning to look at him in confusion, coughing. "_Destroyed?_ What the hell happened?"

"You haven't heard yet?"

"No. I repeat: what the hell?"

He shrugged. "Some demons decided to crash the place." Veronica was one of the few people he knew who not only believed in demons (a remarkable number of humans still didn't), but had actually seen some herself. In fact, he had been with her when they attacked (which, he assumed, was the reason they attacked in the first place). It had only been a couple, though, and he had taken them out without batting an eye. He chuckled at the memory. _Boy, I got rewarded for that one..._

Her eyes widened further. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"Nah, just happened last night. Building's a little destroyed, that's all."

"Are...are they still - "

"Nah, relax, babe. Dante took care of 'em." He grinned, sitting up straighter. The combination of alcohol and attention from an attractive woman was giving massive strokes to his ego, which was usually over-inflated as it was.

Her face filled with relief, and then offered him another smile. "Guess I don't need to worry as long as you're around, huh?"

"'Course not. You know me, I'd never let anything hurt ya."

She chuckled, sliding a little closer towards him. "You know, I really _have _missed you."

Dante swiveled on the chair until the two were facing each other, knees touching in between the stools, resting on elbow on the bar. He realized he had missed her, too. She was one of the few women he had been with that had bothered to stay friends with him after, and that he actually _wanted _to stay friends with. He thought back to the last time he had slept with her, nearly half a year ago. Afterwards, as he'd been holding her, they'd actually had a conversation. A _conversation, _and an intelligent one, at that. She had a sort of no-bullshit attitude, not at all unlike his own, and if either of them had been into commitment, Dante figured she'd be one he might be interested in dating.

But neither of them were, and his thoughts drifted back to the details of exactly what they had done the last time he had seen her. He looked at her, sitting so close he could practically feel the warmth emanating from her body, and he could smell the somewhat fruity scent she was giving off over the smell of alcohol. Lust slowly creeped towards him, beginning to overtake his senses, and he started re-thinking his whole plan of spending the night alone. Maybe he_ did _feel like making an effort after all.

"So," he began after taking another sip. "What's the deal, then? You work two jobs?"

She shrugged. "I know the guy who owns this place. I work here part-time, sort of. To make a little side-money, you know? I've been working here all week, though, and thank God, now that it sounds like Love Planet's gonna be closed down for a while."

Dante shrugged. "They'll fix it soon enough. They'll have to, or all the horny, middle-aged pervs like Enzo are gonna complain."

She laughed. "Let me guess. He's here tonight, too?"

"'Course. He's the one who brought me here. Actually, I'm staying with him right now. My place got destroyed, too."

Her eyes widened again. "Really? That's awful!"

"Tell me about it. Now I gotta endure living with him for...who knows how long."

"Ah, Enzo's not that bad." She shrugged. "I've met so much worse."

Dante imagined a short, fat man that was even more perverted than Enzo and shuddered. "Ugh. How do you endure being around bastards like that all the time?"

"Well, those 'horny, middle-aged pervs' are how I get my paycheck. Besides, I don't have to do anything except dance for them unless I want to. I'm not a whore, you know."

Dante grinned, leaning towards her just a little more. "So I should consider myself lucky, then?"

"Mmm, very." She was leaning towards him, too. He watched as her eyes drifted down. He could practically feel them burning into his flesh as she took in his torso, and when her fingertips reached forward and lightly brushed against his abs, and then she looked back up into his eyes, biting her lip and smiling in such an innocent but mischevious way, he felt himself burn, butterflies beginning to dance in his stomach.

"Well, you know..." she continued. "It's just such a nice change of pace when a young, _attractive _man comes in, it's just...kind of hard to resist."

It was amazing, how innocent she could make her voice sound. She was definitely the type that could easily wrap you around her finger, but Dante didn't mind. She had very nice fingers. He reached down and grasped the hand that was near his abs and held it tightly in his.

"So, you're saying I'm unresistable?"

She grinned wider still, but then suddenly she stood, pulling her hand out of his grasp. At first he was alarmed, but then she grabbed his arm, the bare flesh where the sleeve of his coat had been ripped off, and pulled him forward.

"Come dance with me," she demanded.

He smirked. "Aren't I supposed to pay for that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm on break. This one's on the house."

So she pulled him up, and he let her lead him onto the crowded, colorful floor, stumbling slightly as his head floated, his body burned, and nothing mattered except the feel of her warm hand on his arm. They made it onto the floor, surrounded by what was nothing more to him than a blurry mass of humanity, and she rested her arms on his shoulders, moving to the pulsing beat in front of him, so closeto him. He moved along with her and his hands rested on her waist, a small distance still between them.

He could sense her burning now, too. That was another trait that came along with being half-demon - he could sense raw emotions, feelings, better than any normal human could ever dream. If the feeling was strong enough, he could practically feel it in his own soul, feel it as if it were a thick substance floating in the air. Lust was one of the clearest "feelings" humans gave off.

That was one of his secrets, one of the ways he usually managed to be so successful with women. He could sense whether he was doing the right thing or the wrong thing, whether he was turning them on or off. And right now he was apparently doing the right thing, because the energy in the small gap between them was almost unbearable, warmer than all the sweaty bodies dancing near them combined. He was hungry, and even if he hadn't been half-demon the look in her eyes would have informed him that she was hungry, too. It was an almost predatory look, and he wondered if his eyes looked the same.

He let his hands slide down, settling on the cool, shiny fabric on her hips, and he pulled them forward until they touched his. She let out a soft, surprised noise that was a cross between a gasp and a moan and sounded so deliciously _vulnerable. _She pressed the rest of her body against him in a strange sort of hug, grinding her hips, and he could feel her breasts as she breathed against him. He buried his face in her hair and let his hands roam further down and behind her, pushing her harder into his body. She moaned against his neck, and by now he was sure every blood cell in his body had rushed into his pants. He manuevered her away from him to avoid any potential pain, and his reason for doing so didn't go unnoticed.

She chuckled into his ear, the sound giving him shivers. "Looks like you've missed me, too." He tried to think of something witty to say in response, but he found himself unable to do anything except breathe heavily into her ear. She brought an arm down and trailed her fingers down his torso, from his collarbone to the waist of his pants, which were almost unbearably tight by now, and he shivered again. "Want to see just how much I've missed _you_?"

"Mmm." He made a small noise of agreement, though it was more of a moan vibrating against his throat than anything else. The next thing he knew he was walking again, she was leading him to God only knew where. The lights, the noise, the people, it was all a blur, he didn't know of anything except her hand searing into his flesh, entwined with his now.

Next thing he knew, they were in a small room, a bright light almost blinding him, and he caught his reflection in a mirror and realized she had pulled him into a small, one-person bathroom. She locked the door, and he squinted against the light, taking in the somewhat gritty walls and floor. But in the next second his eyes closed completely because she was kissing him, her soft lips burning fire against his, unhesitatingly exploring his mouth with her small tongue, and he brought his hands up, put them on either side of her face, losing himself in her taste. The only thing stopping him from being in pure ecstacy was the burning flourescent lights, which he could see even through his closed lids. He was about to pull away long enough to ask her to shut them off when suddenly her hand reached down low, unzipping his leather pants, and when she pulled them down along with his underwear all other thoughts fled from his brain.

He had a feeling if he was fully human he would have been trembling like a leaf as he felt the air around his exposed body, felt her breath getting lower until finally her hands grasped him, finally touching him where he needed it most, and he inhaled sharply. He leaned his head back against the wall, eyes clamped shut, and he couldn't stop himself from moaning, the noise coming from deep in his throat, as the moment finally came where he felt her mouth against him, warm and wet, her soft tongue caressing him expertly. She knew him, she knew exactly how to torment him and how to make him feel like a king at the same time, and he groaned as she worked on him, the noises pouring from his throat against his will.

He brought a hand up, tangled it in her hair, grasping it as one of her hands rubbed his thigh lightly, the other holding him in place as she moved up and down, determined to taste all of him. After a moment he dared to open his eyes and glanced down, saw her red lips circled around him, and in that instant he let go, exploding in relief as he thrust against her, and he was sure if it weren't for his superhuman strength his knees would have buckled completely.

His eyes were closed again, and he shuddered against the wall, breathless words still pouring from his lips beyond his control, and they sounded distant in his ears, like they were coming from somebody else's throat.

"Fuck, Veronica, I love you...I love you..."

It wasn't true and they both knew it, but neither of them cared. He let himself relax against the wall, breathing heavy, and she released him, standing, licking her lips. She leaned foward against him, resting her forehead against his chest. He smoothed a hand across her back and sensed her burning, much hotter than before.

"I have to go back to work." Her voice was cool, firm. "My shift gets over at nine. Wait for me. You're returning the favor, so get ready." It was a demand, not a request. She leaned away from him and headed towards the door, patting the condom dispenser against the wall on the way out to emphasize her point. He was still unable to do anything except slump wearily against the wall, and she briefly glanced him over before grinning. "You know, you're a real source of inspiration for my dancing. I'm gonna go put on one hell of a show."

With that, she offered him a fluttery wave before leaving and closing the door behind her, leaving him alone. It was a minute before he could even zip his pants back up, and by the time he did, the high that came from his orgasm was almost gone. He couldn't even bear to think of what they were going to do later. Right now he was so worn out he could have collapsed and fallen asleep right on the dirty bathroom floor. He sighed, stumbling over to the metal dispenser on the wall and sticking some change in, which he fumbled out of a coat pocket, and he reached out a hand to catch the birth control that fell.

He stood like that for a moment, pondering. He had done this so many times before, gone into a public bathroom, gotten a condom from the machine, eagerly anticipating the night ahead. Every time he had felt amazing - excited, anxious, with an incredible amount of confidence. It made him feel like an Alpha Male, like the sexiest thing alive who could have women crawling all over him if he wanted. He always felt that way when he stood in a bathroom with a condom in his hand, but right now, for the first time ever, he felt nothing.

He didn't feel excited, or anxious, or like he had accomplished anything.

Maybe it was because the high had faded away, or maybe it was because the alcohol was messing with him in the wrong way. Maybe it was because after the high had faded, after the pleasure was gone, his head cleared just enough to remember why he was here in the first place.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and glanced away quickly. He still looked weary. If that little mind-blowing act of love hadn't been enough to snap him out of his foolishness, it clearly meant one thing: he hadn't consumed nearly enough alcohol. He needed to keep drinking, keep drinking until he forgot why he was here completely, keep drinking until he got excited again, like he always did, and until he couldn't think of anything except what he and Veronica were going to do.

This thought in mind, he pocketed the condom and made his way back to the bar. He had a little over an hour of drinking to do.

**[XVI]**

If his head had been swimming before it was in the kiddie pool, but now it felt like it was floating on the ocean. He breathed heavily, steadily. His body, his mind, felt like it was drifting away, drifting on the sea, and he was conscious of nothing except the woman's body beneath him, clenched tightly around him, hot and wet. He heard her moaning, felt her nails digging into his shoulder, one hand reaching up and tangling in his hair. Moaning, warm, writhing, that was all he could sense, his fuzzy brain and the dark lights assured that he couldn't even see her at all. He let his hands drift over her soft body, touching her where he knew it would work the most. He had done this so many times he didn't even have to think about it anymore. He steadily pumped into her, the motions feeling almost automatic, mechanical.

He was floating away, the only part of him that seemed to be grounded was where their bodies met, where she felt so warm and slick against him, and he wanted to just let go, to just feel the relief of climax and have it be done, but he had to wait for her. His advanced endurance was another one of his secrets he could thank his demonic heritage for, the reason he had never left a woman unsatisfied before. He could hold out far longer than most, but the alcohol was making him weak, unable to resist, and he just wanted to hurry up and finish. He roamed his hand down her warm body, down to her hips, which where rocking against him. He felt her tension building, teetering on the edge. His hand drifted down and found her clit, pressing it hard with his fingers, and finally she clenched tightly against him, back arching, nails digging into him, body shuddering as she tightened around him several times.

"_Dante..._Dante...!"

If there was one thing he couldn't resist it was a woman saying his name with raw lust in her voice, and he came soon after her, groaning. For a moment both were helpless to do anything except shudder against each other, bodies connected, but finally he pulled out, leaving her alone for a moment to recover on the couch as he went to discard the condom, stumbling. He heard her breathing heavily, immobile except for the steady rise and fall of her chest, and he returned to the couch, maneuvering her in his arms so that he was beneath her, lying on his back with her against his bare torso.

Her body pressed against him, her head resting against his chest, and he circled his arms around her, hands on her upper and lower back. Both were still taking deep breaths in recovery, still glowing in the high that only came after sex. Neither spoke for a moment. His eyes were closed and he was still floating, and he only wanted to sleep.

After a moment she nuzzled her cheek against him and chuckled, turning her head to look up at him.

"You're still the best I've ever been with."

He grinned, smoothing a hand down her hair. "'Course, babe. You're at the toppa my list, too."

She chuckled again, resuming silence as she rested her head against him. He wasn't sure how long they laid like that, sharing the warmth from each other's bodies, but eventually the high began to fade away and he realized something.

They were on the couch in her dressing room. All of the other dancers who shared this room had left, and they were alone, the lights turned off. However, past the walls, the club still raved, and he could hear the distant sounds of the music, the chatter. They laid in the dark. He wasn't sure if her eyes were open or closed, but his were open, staring blankly up at the ceiling, head against the armrest. He couldn't see anything in the darkness, but his eyes were open anyway.

In this part, in the aftermath, he usually felt his best. It was almost - _almost _- better than the actual sex itself. The feeling of triumph, satisfaction, accomplishment, ego-stroking goodness, and possibly best of all, the feeling that someone actually cared about him, and that he had someone to care for. It was all pretend, of course. Veronica was the closest he'd ever come to having emotion involved in sex, but at the end of the night, he knew they were both in it for lusts' sake and that was all. But that was okay, it didn't matter, because always after, as he held the woman in his arms, whoever she was, it felt good, it felt amazing, like someone cared.

But tonight, as his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, he felt nothing but emptiness.

He laid there, feeling empty, holding her in his arms, dizzy from the alcohol but still trying to figure out just what was wrong. It had been great. It had _felt _great. Physically, he couldn't be more satisfied, and clearly the same applied to her. She was happy, so why wasn't he? What had gone _wrong_? Did he drink too much? Was the liquor starting to bring him down? But that had never happened before; it always lifted his spirits, helped him forget whatever it was that was bothering him. It had done its job in helping him forget - he could only vaguely remember why he had come here in the first place - but why wasn't he happy? Why didn't he feel anything? Anything at all?

A while later she declared that she should start heading home, and the two got up, getting dressed. He stumbled into his pants, his boots, his jacket. She kissed him good-bye, told him to stop by more often, and he smiled and laughed with her but he still didn't feel anything. He left the club through a back door that led into a gritty alleyway. The moon shown down on him, and in the distance there were street lights. Dumpsters and trash cans lined the alleyway on either side, trash and empty beer bottles lying on the ground. He stumbled past them, struggling to walk in a straight line, and as he began the walk home a cold wind whipped through him, blowing his coat back. His spirits, which were drifting on neutral, began to slowly sink, more with frustration than anything else. Frustration because he didn't understand why this wasn't WORKING, why he didn't feel like a king, why he didn't feel on top of the world like he always did after doing this shit. Frustration because this felt too much like old times and he didn't know what was happening to him.

If this whole depression thing was starting again and women and alcohol weren't going to help, he didn't know what the hell he was going to do.

He stomped on a lonely beer bottle as he walked by angrily, smashing it into hundreds of tiny pieces. _Demon-hunting, _he thought wildly. _That's what I'll do. Demon-hunting. Make those fuckers pay. That's what I'll do._

It was the only hope he had left, the only source of sanctuary he could think of that he had left to turn to. Killing demons was the ultimate high, better than getting drunk, he'd go so far as to say almost better than sex. It was all he had left, all he could do.

So he stumbled home, alone, hands tucked into his coat pockets, and as he walked along near the busy streets, his thoughts drifted wildly, and finally came to settle on a topic he hadn't thought of since he had first entered the club.

_Lady._

He wondered what she would say if she could see him now. Probably roll her eyes, or tell him he was being stupid and to get over himself. Damn bitch, who was she to tell him what to do? She yelled too much. But she wasn't bad, though, not really. She was a good person, actually, a really good person, and gorgeous, too. He briefly wondered what sleeping with her would be like, wondered if she'd ever even let anyone touch her. But his thoughts didn't stay there for long, and instead drifted to topics similar to those he'd been thinking of when he first woke up that day. He wondered if talking to her would make him feel any better. Talking to her would be different than talking to any of those other girls, that much was for sure. She wasn't like anyone he had ever met.

He wondered what she was doing right now, what she was going to continue to do for the rest of her life. Demon-hunting, she had said, but was that all? She had already gotten revenge on her father. She didn't _need _to hunt demons anymore, unlike him. As the only heir of Sparda, it was his job. It was what he would do until the day he died. But her? If she really wanted, she could do something else with her life, maybe even try to bring it back to somewhat normal.

She wouldn't, though, even drunk he could figure that one out. She was ridiculously stubborn, and he suspected she planned on doing the same thing as him - fighting demons until the day she died. Too bad they couldn't work together. They'd make a great team, he suspected. They had already fought demons together a few times today. They worked good together. It would have been nice to have her live nearby. They could fight together, and maybe they could hang out on nights like this, nights when old scars started bleeding. Because she had nights like that, too. He knew she did. She _must. _

Too bad it wouldn't happen, though. She never wanted to see him again, or at least that was what he convinced himself. She hadn't even wanted him to know where she lived. She was probably gone for good, lost forever, just like everyone else he had ever cared about.

So he decided not to think of her anymore. He decided not to think of anything. He stumbled back to Enzo's house and decided not to do anything except fall back asleep, and hope that when he woke the next morning with a clearer head he'd be back to himself. What scared him, though, was that he wasn't sure who "himself" really was. He had a bad feeling his real self was more like he was right now, as he had always been, and that happy, joking Dante was just a cover-up, a temporary state of being.

But that thought hurt too much to be true, so he resumed not thinking of anything, focusing only on his heavy boots as they thudded against the sidewalk, trying to keep himself from stumbling into the street.


	17. I fell down some stairs

**_Chapter Seventeen - "I Fell Down Some Stairs..."_**

**[XVII]**

The warehouse was big, gray, and silent. The floors, the walls, everything was gritty, and the entire place gave off an air of abandonment, as if no one had stepped foot in it for years. And they probably hadn't; as she walked slowly into the place, eyes scanning the area carefully, her boots made imprints in the thick dust and grime, the heel clicking lightly against the ground. She looked at the floor, but there were no other footprints to be seen. He was in here, she _knew _he was. He was quick as lightning, but she was positive she had seen him come in here. So where were the footprints? His demon form probably had wings, but when he had rushed in here he still looked like a human. Though she supposed it was possible he had transformed instantly, flying up to the balcony on the back wall without ever so much as touching the ground.

Her eyes searched up there warily, looking for a glimmer of movement behind the large crates and barrels. There were cobwebs everywhere, and the cold, mechanical look of the building made it feel very industrial, very emotionless. Perfect for the city, she supposed. But she didn't have time to ponder that; she wasn't getting paid to philosophize. She was getting paid to kill the thing that had been tormenting this small community, and that was exactly what she intended to do.

She let the silence continue for a moment, bracing herself for a sudden appearence, but none came. She approached the black steps in the back of the room slowly, guns clutched tightly in her hands, making sure not to accidently stick her heel in the gaps between the stairs. Falling on her face was the last thing she needed.

"I know you're in here," she called calmly, a bit sick of the silence, of the hiding. She just wanted to get this done already. She approached the top of the steps, the balcony. "I'm going to find you, so why don't you come out now and make things easier?"

No response still. She sighed, walking slowly on the large balcony, trying to find him hiding behind the large containers.

"What's wrong?" She taunted. "You're not afraid of me, are you?"

Suddenly in the corner of her eye there was a flash of movement, and she wheeled around, ready to pull the trigger - and there he stood, still in human form, suddenly very close to her. At first glance, he looked just like an ordinary human man - pale, tall, brown hair, completely unextraordinary. But there was an unearthly glow in his eyes, a snarl on his face too vicious to be human. He wasn't very good at faking.

She didn't flinch, managed to deny the little pulse of fear that rushed through her even to herself. "That's more like it," she said calmly, and the barrel of her gun was aimed directly at his forehead, and her finger began to pull in on the trigger, ready to blow his brains out, to release the demon form-

But suddenly he looked much more human, his snarl turning into a frown and his eyes taking on a look of forlorn sadness.

"Wait." But his voice, his voice was far too raspy, too unearthly, to be human. "Don't shoot me. You wouldn't shoot me, would you, kind lady? I'm a human, just like you."

She would have scoffed - how _stupid _did he think she was? - but the fact that he was slowly inching towards her was too serious to make light of. She stayed calm, cool, waiting for just the right moment-

"Just like you," he murmured again, a desperate tone to his voice, but suddenly his eyes had fallen on her outstretched arms, and he looked so hungry all traces of humanity left his face, his eyes glowing again. "Made of flesh, just like you. We're the same. Made of flesh, _delicious _flesh - "

The gunshot echoed throughout the entire room, almost seeming to make the walls vibrate with it. He wheeled backwards, blood so dark it was almost black flying out of the hole in his forehead, and she moved out of the way just in time to avoid getting splattered with it. He was falling backwards towards the ground, eyes wide open in shock, mouth agape, but before his body could hit the ground it began to tear open, bursting apart at the seams like a bad costume, replaced by black, shadowy skin. The pale hands were replaced by claws, the brown eyes replaced by glowing red orbs, teeth growing into fangs. But the human skin wasn't entirely shed; he reached his claws out as he fell, catching himself, and staggered back to his feet. The pale human skin and clothes were still on top of the demonic form, ripped like shreds, like clumsy patchwork.

"That wasn't nice." His voice was even deeper now, more unhuman, and his glowing eyes pierced into hers as he staggered towards her like a zombie. "Human wench! I'm going to eat you up!"

And suddenly with an unearthly groan, he threw his arms back, his body briefly convulsing, and a large pair of black wings popped out of his back. The force involved in pushing out the wings caused all the human skin to disappear, popping off of him and disintegrating, leaving him with no guise to hide behind.

"Eat you up, eat you ALL up!" His voice had lowered to a demonic growl, so indistinct she hardly understood the words he said. But the words weren't important, what was important was the rapid machine-gun fire she let loose in his direction, and as the ear-splitting rumble and clink of shells hitting the ground filled the air, he leaped for her.

She swiveled to the side, leaping out of his way as he flew over the railing lining the edge of the balcony, but she suddenly found herself flying with him. He had hooked a claw into her shoulder, and the second her feet were dangling over thin air, nothing between her and the long fall below, he let go of her, and she plummeted towards the concrete ground.

Panic flashed through her for a split second, but with a sweaty hand she reached out and grabbed one of the banisters on the railing. Her hand was slick with sweat, and even with her thick gloves on, she was worried she wouldn't be able to hold. Her heavy rocket launcher only helped to pull her down, the straps digging painfully into her shoulders, one of which stung where the beasts' claw had dug into her. She could feel warmth there, and she knew it was steadily starting to bleed. But no time for that, no time, he was coming back -

Quickly, she shrugged out of Kalina Ann and let the launcher fall to the floor below. It was a tough weapon; it'd be fine, and she couldn't pull herself up with that weight on her back. As it fell to the floor, she reached up with her other hand and grabbed the railing, succesfully pulling herself up and flipping over the railing just as the demon lunged for her, flying and screeching right through the spot where her dangling legs had been mere seconds before.

She ran for the stairs on the opposite side of the room, a gun grasped in each hand, waiting for him to reappear. She knew these regular bullets would only stall him, but that was what she needed to do until she could get back to her launcher. Once she had that, she could finish him off. She hurried down the stairs, boots clomping loudly, and suddenly a claw reached through one of the gaps in between the stairs, clasping around her ankle. She cursed as she tumbled foward, arms reaching out to break her fall, then coming up in a ball around her head as she fell. She kept a tight grip on her guns the whole time, bracing her body as it hit each step, and finally she thudded onto the ground, landing flat on her back. Instantly, her arms were in front of her as she lay on the ground, and sure enough the demon was over her, ready to attack.

She fired both guns, shells falling around her as the bullets drove right into its face. It screeched in an annoyed sort of way, retreating slightly. She used its momentary weakness to roll over onto her stomach, and then she propped herself up, rising to her feet and bolting for the launcher.

The demon was there as soon as she was, but she ducked out of its grasp as it reached for her, almost grasping her hair. She did a somersault foward and when she was right side up again, she had the launcher in her grasp. She wheeled to face it, still crouching, and fired a missile directly into the beast's unsuspecting belly. The jolt of the weapon hurt her injured shoulder, and she gritted her teeth, biting down hard, but she hardly noticed the pain as the creature went flying backwards, screeching as light exploded around them.

She stood up on slightly unsteady legs as the creature lay in a heap on the floor. Everything was silent, the walls still seeming to shake slightly with the force of the missile she had just fired.

It couldn't be over. That was too easy.

She walked towards it slowly, the weight of Kalina Ann comforting in her arms. The creature was laying motionless on the floor in a black pool of demonic blood. She continued towards it and it never moved, even when she was so close another step would have brought her into the blood -

Quick enough to make her jump, an arm shot foward and the attatched claw grasped her ankle.

"Eat you up, rip your FLESH - !"

His voice was drowned out by the explosion of a missile colliding with his grotesque face, and Lady leaped away as she pulled the trigger. She brought an arm up and held it across her eyes, and when she lowered it after the explosion had died away, he was a muddled mass on the ground, totally destroyed. Maybe gone for good this time?

She approached it slowly. The floor surrounding it was charred, covered in blood, but as she looked down that wasn't what caught her attention, and suddenly she halted, stopping dead in her tracks.

Her boot.

The boot he had grabbed had five long scratches racing down the ankle onto the foot. His claws had ripped the topmost material off, leaving five ugly, thick scratches on the black surface that was otherwise shiny and beautiful.

"Oh, you _asshole._" She growled, gritting her teeth at the mutilated demon before her. "These are brand new! And they weren't cheap, either!"

As if on cue, the demon began raising its head, eyes still glowing.

"Eat - eat - " it stuttered feebly.

Bangs echoed as she fired her handgun repeatedly into its head in rage, even after it fell to the ground. After five bullets, she took a calming breath, gun smoking. The creature lay perfectly still. But for good measure, she lifted the damaged boot and smashed the heel into the thing's butchered head.

"_Bastard,_" she hissed, enjoying the crunch and the splatter as she stomped on the demon's head. In fact, it made her feel so much better, as she stepped away from the creature she even smiled, watching as it disintigrated into the ground, leaving nothing but splotches of red behind.

"Hmm," she said triumphantly, and she straightened, adjusting the straps of Kalina Ann on her shoulders as she hoisted the weapon onto her back and walked towards the exit, boots clicking as she left bloody footprints in the ground.

**[XVII]**

Three months had passed since the "incident", as she liked to refer to it as, that hellish day at Temen-ni-gru where she finally killed her father. It already felt so far behind her in the past, almost like it hadn't really happened.

And life had gotten so much better.

After returning back home, she had wondered how she was going to survive. She was to be a demon hunter, she knew that much; that was already her greatest passion, what she had to do no matter what, and she was going to turn it into her job, her source of income. The question was how. She didn't want a "business" like Dante; she wanted it to be a freelance sort of thing. It wasn't like she could exactly go out into the community and advertise herself that way, though. "Freelance Devil Hunter" wouldn't exactly go over well, especially considering how many humans were still blind to the existence of demons. It had to be an underground sort of thing. She was just going to have to wait for something to attack, and be sure to be there when it did.

Which was exactly what happened, much quicker than she could have expected.

There had been reports of a few children gone missing. It could have just been some creepy human, but she instinctivly felt that it was something else. Her suspicions were only confirmed when a little girl who was an eyewitness was reported as describing the attackers as looking like "monsters".

The disappearences had been happening at night, so that was when Lady ventured into the town where they had been happening, fully armed and prepared. She walked casually down the sidewalk, staying out of the streetlights so as not to draw attention to herself. Fortunately, there was no one around, anyway, and soon enough she spied them.

There were three. She went after them stealithly. It was late; everyone in the neighborhood was probably asleep. This was a wealthy neighborhood, separate from the noise and chaos of the crowded city. They were approaching a rather large house, and she followed them carefully. They were near the house, and began to climb towards the upper windows, probably toward a child's bedroom. She wasn't close enough yet to distract them, and she couldn't shoot - she could hit someone inside the house.

But the two were following the leader in a line, and the third one was still on the ground. She rapidly fired at it, hurrying towards it before it managed to climb onto the house. It flew backwards in alarm, and the other two demons turned their attention towards her. She had reached them by now, and she could tell that they were lesser demons - still deadly to unprepared humans, but her? She had dealed with far worse.

The other two had lept down from the house now and were headed straight towards her. She ducked as they swiped their claws at her, running past them and coming out without a single scratch. Once behind them all, she wheeled around and let go another rapid burst of machine-gun fire.

She could hear screams now, and lights were flickering on in houses all over the neighborhood. She manuevered around the demons, dodged their blows, and they almost looked like they were performing some strange sort of dance. She was always careful not to shoot towards any houses, but it became increasingly difficult as they constantly moved around, screeching. The screeches and gunfire filled the quiet night air, along with dogs barking and the clamor of people talking as more and more got up to see what was wrong.

The first demon she had shot was dead soon enough - it took a fair amount of ammunition to kill these ones, but not too much. It had faded away into the ground, leaving only red splotches behind, but the other two were going at her full throttle, claws narrowly missing her face, her legs, as she dodged away from them.

She was firing a small distance away from them in the backyard when she noticed two things at once - a little girl was staring horrified at them from an upper floor window, and a man had suddenly opened the back door of the house, leading out into the yard currently covered in bullet shells and demon blood scattered around the large, in-ground pool. He looked even more horrified than his daughter.

Lady ducked to avoid getting her scalp torn off - the momentary distraction had, well, distracted her - and she yelled at him.

"Get back in the house!" She had yelled. "STAY INSIDE!"

His mouth moved, as wide open as his eyes, but before he could form words he quickly followed her orders and slammed the back door shut.

She heard some distant shocked yells and cries as more neighbors gathered around the front yard of the house, peeking around to the back. She mentally cursed. _Fuck, all these people are gonna get themselves killed - _

She had to hurry up and finish already. Both demons lunged for her at the same time, and she ducked in between them, sending them crashing into each other. Well, they weren't very smart, that was one good thing...though apparently they had been smart enough to kidnap and eat defenseless children, or whatever it was they did to them once they stole them, and with this thought a flash of rage pulsed through her, fueling her motivation, and she sweeped her leg out from the ground, swinging it through theirs and sending them falling.

She stood above them and let loose a merciless stream of bullets, right into their fallen forms. It wasn't long before they twitched for the last time, and she stopped firing, breathing heavily. She stood calmly over their bodies and watched them fade away into nothing but blood with satisfaction. She brought a gloved hand, still grasping her machine-gun, up and pushed her hair out of her face. It had been a fairly easy battle compared to some she had been in - she had faced much worse at Temen-ni-gru - but the setting had made it more difficult, since she couldn't just fire any which way she wanted. There were innocent civilians all around, the very ones she was trying to protect. She felt a bit breathless, but satisfied, and as she looked down at the blood she was standing in, all over her boots, the high came, the euphoric sort of feeling that only came after doing this.

She turned, remembering all the people watching her. A group was crowded around the front of the house, looking back towards her, and two faces were looking at her through the window in the back door, the one the man had come through.

"It's okay," she called. "You can come out now. They're dead."

Slowly, the back door opened, and the man creeped out, along with a woman in a nightgown, clutching the hand of the little girl tightly. There was also a maid peeking around the corner, but she didn't come outside.

The woman and the little girl stayed by the house, but the man walked towards her slowly, taking everything in, from the blood coating his perfectly-manicured lawn to the girl standing on top of it, sweaty and heavily armed, but without so much as a scratch.

His eyes finally drifted up into hers. "Those...those things..." his voice was hoarse. "What were they?"

"Demons." She said calmly. "The same demons that have been killing children all over this town."

"K-killing?" He stuttered. "You mean...all those missing children...?"

"Yes. They weren't kidnapped by humans. These were the beings responsible." She motioned towards the ground at the bloody remains. "They were going to take your daughter tonight."

He glanced back at his little girl, who was staring at them with wide eyes, and then turned back to her.

"Who...who are you?" He asked. "You're not from this neighborhood, are you?"

"No. My name is Lady."

"Lady?"

"Yes. I'm a devil hunter."

"A...devil hunter?"

"Yes. I knew demons had been attacking this town, so I came here tonight to find them."

"And...you killed them all?"

"Yes. Well, for now, at least. There are plenty more out there, but for now you shouldn't have to worry."

The man didn't speak for a moment, breathing heavily. His eyes were still wide and he looked a bit crazy, but Lady didn't blame him. He was probably one of the types that hadn't even believed in demons until tonight. After a moment, he took a deep breath and straightened up, seeming to regain a bit of his senses.

"Well. Miss, uh, Lady, you have saved my family. There must be something I can do to repay you." She hesitated for a moment, thinking of what she needed most. "Anything, anything at all," he continued.

"Well, there _is _something I really need." She went on to explain how she currently had no mode of transportation, and described the old bike she used to own. The place where she had bought it was still in business, and she intended to buy an exact replica and customize it the same way she had customized the old one, maybe even adding some new additions. She had already figured out about how much it would all cost, and before she had even asked for money, the man declared that he would pay the sum in full, that it was the "least he could do". He ordered his maid to bring them the appropriate amount, and when she disappeared into the house to get it, he called his daughter over.

The girl, small and blonde, approached hesitantly, still looking terrified.

"It's okay, sweetheart," her father called. "This lady got rid of the monsters."

The girl reached her father and grasped his hand, looking up at Lady with wide eyes that were more curious than scared now.

"Were the monsters coming after me?" She asked.

Lady felt her heart softening at the wide, innocent eyes staring up at her, eyes that reminded her of how her own used to look. She couldn't bring herself to nod.

"Don't worry," she said. "They're gone. They can't hurt you now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, there's no reason to be scared, okay?"

That was a lie and she knew it; there were more than enough reasons to be scared of the world, demons being only one of them. But it didn't matter when the faintest trace of a smile graced the girl's features, sending sunbeams into her face.

"Say thank you," her father insisted.

"Thank you," the girl said shyly, and Lady couldn't stop a smile from finding its way onto her own face.

So for the first time, she got paid for killing demons, and things only escalated from there. She gave that man her contact information, in case he should ever run into anymore problems, and apparently her name and number got spread around, because she was getting calls on a fairly regular basis. Soon enough it really did feel like a job, a job she loved, a job that made her feel like she was honoring her mother's memory and making the world a better place. Not to mention, the money was a nice bonus. She had more than she needed to survive. Much more.

Her most recent call had been from a man in a small community, complaining of a demon that had been killing pets and vandalizing, and he feared soon it would do much worse. The parents had been keeping their kids locked up in fear. She had come to meet the man who had called her and he had led her to the part of town that had seen the most damage. It was a back alleyway, and he wasn't kidding; the windows were broken, shards of broken glass littering the ground, and the buildings had holes and looked like they were about to cave in. And then she had seen him; still in human form (she was getting used to the idea that a lot of demons could look like humans) and he had been hiding behind a dumpster, snacking on a rat. She winced in disgust as she watched him tear the squirming thing's flesh off with his teeth, but the moment she readied herself to attack his eyes widened, and he dropped the rat and booked it, having seen her guns. She had run after him, panting to keep up - his speed was certainly far beyond a human's - and he had led her into the warehouse.

And now he was dead, the job was over, and her boots were ruined, thanks to him. Quality boots weren't cheap these days. But maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. It turned out the boots were still functional, and her scars were something she was proud of, proof of how hard she had fought in the past, and the scratches on her boots sent the same message.

As she continued on down the sidewalk, she was suddenly aware of her shoulder bleeding. Warm blood was seeping through her shirt. _Great, now this is gonna get ruined, too. _Fortunately the shirt was black and not white, like some of her others. She paused on her journey long enough to rip some guaze from the pockets on her skirt and wrapped the wound, halting the flow of blood.

She reached the spot where she had first met up with the man that night and sure enough, he was still there, standing nervously next to her bike. He looked relieved when he saw her form coming into view and quickly ran up to her.

"Is he - is he - "

"Relax, he's dead." He looked uncertain, so she motioned down to her boots. "See? This is his blood all over me. Trust me, he's not coming back."

He exhaled slowly in relief, looking down. "Oh, thank heavens." He looked back up and shook her hand. "Thank you, _thank _you, miss. If there's anything I can do - "

"Uh, you _could _pay me."

"Oh yes, yes, of course." He pulled away and opened an inside jacket pocket, pulling out a rather large wad of cash and handing it to her. She counted through the bills briefly, making sure he had given her the right amount, before tucking them away.

"Thank _you_." She said, heading towards her bike. "Give me a call if you run into anymore problems, okay?"

"Of course." She mounted the bike, picking up her helmet and beginning to put it on. "Are you sure there's nothing else we could do?" He noticed her shoulder. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

She glanced down at her shoulder, which was still stinging lightly. "No, it's alright." She reponded. "I've dealt with worse."

With that, she put the helmet over her head, concealing her face, and revved up the engine, the loud rumbling filling the night air. After checking to make sure all her weapons were secured, she offered him a small wave with a gloved hand before zooming off into the darkness, leaving him behind to stare after her with a mixture of confusion and awe.

**[XVII]**

It didn't take her long to reach her house, and when she did, she realized two things - she hadn't eaten almost anything all day, and she really didn't feel like making anything herself. She decided to make a quick stop at a restaurant before calling it a night, just somewhere small and dark where she could be left alone. She secured her weapons, locking them tightly in their cases, though she kept a dagger hidden in her boot. She decided to change her shirt before heading out, since the one she was currently wearing was soaked around the shoulder with her own blood. She didn't want to bring _too _much attention to herself, after all, although it was inevitable - she tended to receive weird looks wherever she went. Not that she cared; after dealing with demons on a regular basis, she realized there wasn't anything humans could do to hurt her anymore.

She took the stained shirt off and took a moment to to tend to the wound properly. Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, the obnoxiously bright lights lit up the wound on the bare flesh of her shoulder. She removed the guaze slowly and winced at the deep claw marks she saw running down the soft flesh, marring her silky skin. Well, more scars to add to the collection all over her body. She cleaned the wound carefully before re-wrapping it and putting on another dark shirt, this one a royal purple. She gave herself one last glance in the mirror, noticing the large bruise on her left cheek. _Ugh, must have gotten that falling down the stairs. _It was close to the scar on her nose - the first scar she had ever gotten - and seemed to bring it out more. She sighed, turning off the lights and leaving. Well, she would go somewhere dark, where hopefully no one would pay attention to her and ask her awkward questions.

Leaving the small house behind, she got back on her bike, putting her helmet on before zooming off into the night. She normally didn't bother to wear the helmet unless she thought some dangerous high-speed chases could be involved, but seeing as she wanted to bring as little attention to her face as possible tonight, she decided to wear it anyway.

She knew a good place to go, a short drive from where she lived, in the crowded city. The city wasn't _too _crowded tonight - it had gotten pretty late, after all. Good, maybe she really would be left alone. When she reached the small restaurant, she pulled up to it and parked her motorcycle in a space near the sidewalk. There were a few people walking by, but her attention was drawn to a group of three young men leaning against the wall next to the door of the restaurant, smoking. They were talking and laughing rather loudly, and she hoped they wouldn't notice her.

She took the helmet off, shaking her head briefly to get her hair unmatted, and got off of the now-stationary bike. She started towards the entrance, helmet held under one arm, and sure enough, she didn't go unnoticed. She could feel their eyes on her before she heard anything. The one facing her nudged his friends, grinning, and they turned around to see what he was looking at. In the darkness they couldn't see her scars or how battered she looked, they could only see her outline. One of them wolf-whistled.

"Hey, sweetie, why don't you come over here?" He called, and the other two chuckled. She internally rolled her eyes, entering the establishment without so much as glancing in their direction. If this had happened a few years ago, she probably would have yelled at them and threatened their groin areas with her foot, but now she only felt annoyed. After getting knocked around by a demon, obnoxious humans hardly seemed a threat.

She entered the small, dimly-lit diner and sat down at a booth, setting the helmet on the cushiony seat beside her. She half-expected one of the boys to follow her, but none of them did. Soon a waitress approached and handed her a menu, and just as she was opening it the waitress paused before leaving.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Lady looked up at her. "Huh?" The woman was staring at the bruise on her cheek. "Oh, yeah, it was just an accident. Not a big deal."

"What happened?"

"It's...a long story."

The waitress looked hesitant, but finally said, "Well, alright," and left her alone. Her eyes scanned the menu and she was just deciding what she wanted when she was suddenly aware of a presence at her side. She tensed, realizing without even looking that it was one of the men from outside. He smelled like cigarette smoke. She didn't glance up.

"Hey." She still didn't look up. She could tell by his voice that he wasn't the one who had called to her before. He cleared his throat at her silence. "So, uh, sorry about my friend back there. He can be a real asshole, you know?"

"So why are you friends with him?" She still didn't look up.

He seemed taken aback for a moment, but then he laughed nervously. "Come on, don't tell me you don't have some friends who can be stupid sometimes."

"I don't have friends." She said it half because it was true and half in hopes of scaring him off. He did seem caught off guard for a moment, but it didn't work because suddenly he sat down in the booth across from her.

"So, no one's sitting here, then?"

She could hear the grin in his voice and finally lowered the menu, glaring angrily. She was about to inform him that just because that seat was empty didn't mean that _he _could sit there when his grin morphed into a look of surprise.

"Hey, what happened to your face?"

She looked away, suddenly self-conscious. "I...fell down some stairs."

Well, it was true, actually. He didn't buy it, though.

"Yeah, that's what women always say. What really happened? It's okay, you can tell me."

His voice had softned to a tone that was an attempt to sound sensitive, though Lady still got the vibe all he wanted to do was get in her skirt. She looked back at him, glaring.

"Was it your boyfriend? You know, you don't have to let him push you around. You deserve better than that. Like, I know_ I'd _never hit a girl."

She couldn't help but let out a small laugh, returning her eyes to the menu. "Please. As if I'd ever let a _human _knock me around."

His eyebrows knotted together in confusion. "A...human? As opposed to what?"

"Nothing. Look, I don't have a boyfriend, I'm not interested in getting one, and you're pissing me off, so unless you want to be speaking in falsetto for the next month or two I suggest you leave."

His eyes widened in alarm. The tone of her voice wasn't loud or angry, but it was dead-ass serious and intimidating. He stayed there for a moment, trying to come up with something to say, but she was ignoring him, and after a moment, he simply got up and left.

She couldn't help but grin lightly once he was gone. Well, that had been kind of fun. She loved her new-found confidence, the total faith she had in herself. She had always been fairly confident as a child, but that had been completely shattered when she lost her mother. Ever since then she'd been fueled by anger more than anything else, confident in battle but not as a whole. But now that her mother had been avenged, now that she knew what her purpose in life was, she was feeling better than she ever had before.

That didn't mean everything was peachy, though. She didn't think about anything bad during the day, but she couldn't control her dreams, and they often drifted onto unpleasant subjects. She hadn't had any full-fledged nightmares yet, but she often dreamt of her father, and woke up with a feeling of dull sadness in her heart. Twice, she had woken up unable to remember her dreams at all, but with tears on her face. So things weren't perfect, but her life was still going better than it ever had...with the exception of the days when she had been young and her mother had been alive. Considering the circumstances, she supposed it was the best she could ask for.

The thought of the man she had just scared away suddenly made the thought of Dante pop into her head. He had been rather obnoxious, too, but not nearly as much as them. In fact, she hated to admit it, but he was quite smooth compared to them. And then she suddenly realized with a jolt that this was the first time she had thought of him in the three months since they had parted.

What was even more alarming than the realization was how surprised it made her feel. She couldn't believe he hadn't crossed her mind, especially since all she had been doing lately was fighting demons. She had been too busy, she supposed. But still, he was one of the most interesting people she had ever met, not to mention the first demon she had ever met with a heart. She couldn't believe he hadn't crossed her mind.

And then as she was scanning the menu, her eyes fall across the option for pizza, and she realized something else.

She _missed _him.

She didn't know why, but she did. She pictured him in her mind and it filled her heart with a dull ache of longing, one that was surprisingly strong. She wanted to know what had happened to him, what he'd been doing. His shop was probably fixed by now. She wondered how his business was going, if he was making more money than she was. It was more a curious sort of longing than anything else. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she had felt connected with him after all was said and done, felt that maybe he was someone she could relate to. Maybe it was because she respected him, knowing he was probably just as busy ridding the world of evil as she was. He was the only other person she knew who hunted demons.

But it didn't feel like that. It felt...stronger. She didn't know how to explain it, or describe it, but she suddenly missed being with him, despite the fact she had only known him for less than a day. She thought about how they might not ever meet again and the dull ache in her heart increased, and even more still when she thought about how he had probably forgotten all about her already and didn't miss her at all.

She found the thoughts to be a little unnerving since she didn't know what they meant. She was usually very straightforward in her feelings towards someone, and she always knew exactly where she stood with them. It made her feel strange to not really be sure why she felt a certain way towards someone.

And since everything had been going so well lately, she didn't want her happiness to start going downhill because she couldn't figure out her emotions over some demon she had met once. They hadn't even known each other for twenty-four hours, after all. There was no reason for him to ever so much as cross her mind again, even if he _was _unlike anyone she had ever met. No reason at all.

But her resolve only seemed to make her brain rebel more, because for the rest of the night her thoughts were filled with nothing but curiosity, coming up with possible scenarios of where he was right now, what he was doing. It was what she wondered as she was falling asleep that night, being careful not to lay on her wounded shoulder, and as she lay awake in bed, eyes open in the darkness, she had a bad feeling that he wasn't going to be leaving her thoughts any time soon.


	18. Kiss It Better

**A/N: **Well, the first thing I should probably do is apologize for taking so damn long to update this. I never intended to. It was a combination of being busy and feeling kind of down and unmotivated to write, but anyway, you don't care about that shit, point is, I'm updating FINALLY. I'm gonna try really hard not to take this long again. This chapter is fairly long, but the next chapter is pretty much epic-ly long and I'll try to post it really soon to make up for it. For the record, I changed the genre of this story from "Adventure" to "Drama" because I realized once the events of DMC3 passed, this is definitely more of a drama (even though there will be more demons/violence to come).

Thank you to everyone who's still been reviewing, and anyone who still bothers to read this. If it weren't for you I don't think I'd have any motivation at all.

Muchas gracias to my friend Paul V for beta reading most of this chapter for me. :)

* * *

**_Chapter Eighteen - Kiss It Better_**

**[XVIII]**

Two months passed since the day Lady remembered Dante for the first time in the diner, and still, neither had so much as seen or spoken to the other.

He had drifted in and out of her thoughts, but tonight he was fully on her mind, and she couldn't get him off of it. She stepped out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She ran a hand through her hair, which was still damp from the shower she had just taken, and she slumped against the wall, sighing.

She didn't know why she couldn't stop thinking about him tonight, or why she wanted to see him so badly. All she knew was that her heart ached every time she thought of him, and she felt like she _needed _to see him again. She walked further into the bedroom, bare feet silent against the warm carpet, and as she did so her eyes were caught by her calender, hanging on the wall in the space between her bed and her nightstand. Suddenly, she realized just why she was thinking of him so much, and she stood staring at the calender with wide eyes.

It had been exactly five months since they last spoke. She knew, because the day she met him was a day forever imbedded into her memory, not because of him but because of her father. It was the day she had killed him, and a day she would never forget the date of for as long as she lived. It also just so happened to be the day she had met Dante, and the last time she had seen him. It was like some kind of sick anniversary. They hadn't seen each other in exactly five months to this day.

And then she realized with alarm she was actually _wearing _the same thing she had worn that day! She looke down at herself, and sure enough she was clad in her white, button-down blouse and her self-made, pocket-filled skirt. She hadn't planned it or anything. Maybe it had been subconsciously on her mind. The only exception was that she hadn't yet bothered to put the spandex shorts on underneath, leaving almost all of her legs exposed, right up to the tops of her thighs.

The onslaught of memories and flashbacks made her realize how much time had truly passed. She almost had a hard time believing it had been this long, that neither of them had run into each other yet -

A creaking noise interrupted the silence as the door to her bedroom was suddenly pushed, and she stiffened, her blood turning cold as ice. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the wall, and she could suddenly hear her pulse beating in her ears as her muscles tensed. She could sense a presence behind her. Somebody was in here. Somebody was _in her house - _

"Hey there, Lady."

The voice made her jump even more than the sound of the door opening, and her eyes widened further in disbelief, mouth opening in silent surprise. There was no way, it couldn't be, not as she was just thinking about him! But even after five months of not hearing it, she'd recognize his voice anywhere, that irritating cocky tone that let you know he was grinning and thinking he was the greatest thing in the world. After a moment, she finally turned around, and it was too ironic, too surreal, but sure enough, there he was.

Dante was standing in the doorway, the door pushed wide open, and he was leaning a shoulder casually against the doorframe, arms folded. He was grinning, sure enough, in exactly the same way she remembered. Her heartbeat should have gone down when she saw that it wasn't a threat, but it only increased with the surprise, and with the way he was looking at her, his eyes shamelessly drifting up and down her legs, and with the fact that he was dressed exactly as she remembered, except he had no coat on. He had no coat on. He had barged into her house and he was standing there in boots, leather pants, and that was it.

Her brain couldn't even begin to make sense of what was going on.

_How did he find me? How did he get in my house? Why did he come? What is he doing? Why is he dressed like that? How - why - ?_

"Long time no see, huh?" His eyes finally drifted up and looked into her wide ones, and his grin only grew wider, flashing all of his white teeth at her. Apparently, he was amused by her flabbergasted expression. Maybe that was why he had snuck up on her. He wanted to startle her. _Yes, that has to be it, it couldn't be anything else..._

"Dante..." she finally managed, brows furrowing together, the word coming out breathlessly. She felt a bit faint, and she fell against the wall, leaning a palm flat against it for support.

"What..." she finally managed. "What the hell are you doing in my house?" The realization that he had probably broken in pissed her off, and as her anger burned lightly she managed to get over her shock enough to glare at him. "How the hell did you get _in _my house? What are you DOING here?"

He chuckled, unfolding his arms and walking slightly further into the room, standing upright. "You should know by now locks can't keep Dante away." She continued to glare at him, at the indignity of having her house broken into, but glaring mostly because she wanted to mask the rising unease inside of her, mask how thickly her heart was beginning to pound at the way he was acting, the fact that he had just appeared from nowhere. "And as for what I'm doing here..."

He reached behind him and shut the door, making sure to take a moment to press down the lock on the middle of the knob. He turned back around, looking right into her wide eyes, and his smile was unnerving.

"I think we both know the answer to that."

Still grinning, he began walking slowly towards her, and her heartbeat begin to increase as cold fear crept towards her senses. _No. There is no way! He's not going to try to...no! He wouldn't do that!_

She wanted to leave the wall, to run, but her legs had turned into jelly and she was frozen solid. She knew it would have been useless, anyway, she could never have ran past him without him catching her. But no...he wasn't going to do anything, he _wasn't,_ she was just paranoid...Dante fought for justice, just like her, he wouldn't DO that to someone!

But even as nerves began to take her over, something else began to awaken. Everything about him emanated power - the way he walked toward her, the predatory look in his eyes, his broad shoulders. It made him terrifying, because she knew regardless of how strong she was, regardless of how many weapons she owned, if he wanted to have his way with her he'd be able to do it, and she wouldn't be able to stop him. But even though nerves and surprise were the only things she was conscious of, a dull flame turned on inside her body, growing stronger with every beat of her heart. It originated between her legs and sent flames racing everywhere, from the soles of her feet to her rapidly beating heart and up into her face, which she knew was blushing at this point. It wasn't until he was finally towering over her, inches away but not touching yet, that she realized the feeling was one of arousal.

But the fact that he was causing this effect on her only made her more uneasy, and finally regaining her senses, she lifted herself from the wall and darted around him, making a mad dash for the door and running for her life towards the room that held her guns. Or that was the plan, anyway, but the moment she flinched up his hands were on either side of her slim waist and he pushed her back against the wall, her back and head pressed against the impenetrable surface, and her paranoid musings suddenly didn't seem so paranoid after all. She was not the type to get scared easily, nor to show fear even if she was, but this fear suddenly began overtaking her more rational thoughts. He had so much power over her, she wasn't even armed, and the thought that he was going to betray her and use her like this -

"Aw, you don't want to leave, do you?" He teased, and she felt defiance and unwanted pleasure stab her at the exact same time, her heart and body overflowing with conflicting messages as his head lowered towards her neck. Her eyes widened further still when she felt his lips against the delicate skin, right next to the spot where blood was rapidly pulsing through her artery, and she realized this really _was _happening. She struggled to get up from the wall, but his hands were as strong as metal, and all she could do was squirm in an attempt to get out of his grip. She brought her hands up and pushed against his bare chest, head moving back and forth as she tried to pull her neck away from him. He didn't budge; he was as solid as the wall.

"Dante!" She yelled, and he continued to kiss different spots on her neck, ignoring her struggles as he drifted down lower, towards the collarbone that was peeking through the top of her shirt. "Dante, STOP!"

If she couldn't physically escape, she had to at least try to talk him out of it, but he only chuckled against her skin, making it vibrate briefly. "But you don't _want _me to stop," he insisted, lips traveling down the small V of her skin exposed by the few buttons of the shirt she had left undone, and defiance laced with panic filled her as she realized there wasn't much skin to explore, so soon he would have to start undoing more buttons -

She could see the top of his head now, could even see the part in his white hair, and she reached a hand up, grabbed a fistful, and yanked his head away from her body with all of her might.

"Ah!" He cried out in pain as several of his hairs ripped out into her hand, and she was so amazed it had actually worked she almost missed her chance to pull away. She ran around the gap where he had leaned to the side, but he was still too quick. The hand that wasn't grabbing his head reached out and clamped around her wrist, and just that one hand held enough strength to force her back into the wall, and the next moment he had a hand around each wrist and was glaring down at her. It felt like her wrists were in iron shackles, and before she could even attempt to kick him he had pressed his lower body against hers, forcing her legs to part and end up on either side of his, rendering them equally useless. His strength was overwhelming, and she couldn't recall ever feeling so powerless in her life. That was what she feared more than anything in the world - being weak, being _helpless, _and this had to be a bad dream, it had to be, because Dante wouldn't do this to her -

"You were always so stubborn, Lady." There were no joking tones in his voice now, and his eyes were serious. She still tried to squirm away from him, but it was useless, doing nothing except increasing the friction between them as her body squirmed against his. "You won't admit to anything that might show signs of weakness. Even if it's something you really want." She couldn't say anything to this because it caught her off guard. Deep inside, this was something she felt was true; it was as if his piercing eyes had the ability to see right into her soul and find all her secrets. His face came towards her again, and she quickly turned her head away with a small whimper that came out against her will, arms flexing uselessly in his grasp. His mouth was at her ear.

"Remember that time in the library?" His breath was hot against her, and it made her shudder. "When I tried to kiss you?" His mouth drifted away from her ear and towards her cheek, though it still didn't touch her, and she turned her head so far away from him her other cheek pressed against the cool wall, brows knotted together in defiant frustration. "I really wanted to kiss you," he murmured. "But you turned away from me...just like you are now." He paused a moment, apparently waiting for her to respond, and when she didn't he sighed. "You know what the worst part was?" He continued. "You _wanted _me to kiss you. I _know _you did." At this accusation and the memory of that moment in the library, she felt her face warming, and his lips still floated over the blush steadily rising on her cheeks. "See, if you really didn't want me, I would have left you alone. But you _did _want me, but you're too _stubborn _to listen to what your heart is telling you to do."

He was silent for a moment, and there was no movement except the quick rise and fall of her chest and the slow and steady rise and fall of his. Slowly, she began turning her head to face him, to see what his next move was, to look into his eyes and see if this whole thing was for real, but most of all to try and figure out how he was able to look inside her soul. Because everything he had just said was true; it had been the way she was ever since her mother died. His face didn't move, and when she had turned her head to face him, his lips were only an inch above her own. She looked up into his eyes, than scanned his face for a clue as to what the hell was going on. Her glance finally came to settle on his lips, and in that instant he leaned forward and pressed them fully onto hers.

Her body stiffened, but it didn't hurt, he wasn't pressing down forcefully. In fact, his lips felt remarkably soft, only lightly pressing against hers, and that kiss suddenly softened all nerves, because it wasn't a forceful kiss and she didn't feel violated. In fact, the kiss felt comforting, and where the panic decreased, the burning increased, escalating to dangerous heights.

She opened her eyes when he pulled away, and hadn't even realized she closed them in the first place. They were looking directly into his, and when he looked down at her he didn't look intimidating anymore. In fact, the only word that popped into her mind to describe the intense look behind his eyes was "loving".

Her mind was spinning so much it took her a moment to realize he had released her. She was still holding her hands in front of her, but he had let go of them and taken a few steps back, leaving a small gap between them. She let her hands fall limply to her sides, her newfound freedom throwing her off even more than the surprise attack had.

"Now," he finally spoke, the words sounding distant, cutting through the daze of confusion she was in. "If you tell me you want me to leave, I'll go right now and never come back. But..." He was slowly inching towards her again. "If you let me stay, I'll make sure you won't regret it."

She couldn't speak, still attempting to figure out exactly what had just happened in the last few minutes. He wasn't going to attack her after all, and now was her chance. She just had to tell him to leave, and he said he would. Leave and never come back. But...she _didn't _want that. She was furious with him for barging in the way he had, but her body and her heart were both voting for the second option. _I'll make sure you won't regret it..._

Well, she didn't doubt that. If just one kiss had paralyzed her like this, what else could he do?

Finally, as her breathing returned to normal, she found her voice again, though it still sounded a bit breathless.

"I should...I should _kill _you for treating me like that." She hissed.

He chuckled, leaning closer to her. Apparently, he took that as a sign she had accepted his invitation.

"But it worked, didn't it?" He murmured.

She paused, realizing he was right. The warmth hadn't just come from the kiss; it had begun when he started walking towards her. And "warmth" was a massive understatement by now. She _hated _that he could do this to her, and part of her was ashamed of herself, but another part of her, a part that was slowly taking over, didn't care, because it felt so _good_, and he could make it feel even better. She wanted to tell him to leave, but she wanted to taste him again even more.

She didn't say anything, just glared at him, but she didn't try to get away, either, and suddenly they were kissing again. It wasn't quite as soft this time, but his hands only rested lightly on her waist. She gave herself a moment to get used to it, to the feeling of his face so intimate with hers, with the taste of his lips, and his tongue, which he slipped in the moment she allowed her lips to part even the slightest bit. She had never let anyone kiss her like this before, and it set her nerves on fire, but within mere moments it suddenly felt natural, and more than that, incredible. It felt right, and she wanted _more. _She brought her arms up and linked them around his neck, pulling his chest closer to hers. His flesh was smooth and warm against her hands, and when their bodies collided he moaned lightly against her lips.

She grinned internally at that noise - a sign that the power had shifted slightly - but before she had time to ponder it she felt his hands on her thighs. Her eyes widened as he pulled away, and in the next moment he had lifted her, her back still against the wall. His warm hands were cupped underneath her thighs, and her legs were clamped onto either side of his torso. He grinned mischievously, but before she had time to ponder this new situation he was kissing her again, sending her back into a daze. The taste of him made her head spin so much she hardly felt it when he maneuvered her onto the bed, and she suddenly realized with a jolt that the hard wall had disappeared and was replaced by the soft warmth of her mattress. Her legs were still clamped around his sides, and when she opened her eyes and saw him hovering over her she suddenly felt some of the nerves from before coming back. They were in bed. It wouldn't just be kissing anymore. She had never done anything remotely like this with anyone before, let alone a half-demon who had broken into her house. She felt her pulse steadily increasing and let herself lie there, frozen, watching his movements. Part of her wanted to run, but for once, she couldn't bring herself to move.

He grinned down at her, one hand caressing her thigh softly. "No need to look so scared, babe," he said. "This is where it gets fun." Both hands slowly ran over both thighs now, the rough palms feeling surprisingly soft as they moved over her skin, her scars. He leaned over her until he was directly above her, his face close to hers once again, and the moment he placed a burning kiss on her neck his hands moved to the insides of her thighs and gently pried them apart. She let out a soft gasp, eyes widening at the sudden sense of vulnerability and anticipation, and her lids suddenly fluttered closed, sleepy with lust.

His fingers moved slowly, softly caressing the inner thighs, and he leaned back from her. She knew he was getting a good look while he could, and this made her feel more defiant and vulnerable, blushing. She opened her eyes and sure enough he was smirking, his eyes fixated underneath her skirt. She was thankful she hadn't worn a thong that day; the black underwear she had on was tight, but it kept everything important hidden from view. All the same, she began to regret this whole thing. She didn't want to give in so easily. She had to get up, ignore her body's desires, put an end to this whole thing right now -

But it was as if he could read her mind, because in the next moment he looked away and instead approached her face again, as if to kiss her, her head still laying back among the pillows. He was directly above her before she could sit up, and in the next moment two things happened simultaneously. He pressed his lips against hers, and one of his hands reached further up and finally touched her sex, through the thin fabric. It seemed like it only took him seconds to find her clit, and his fingers pressed it hard, playing with it through the material. Her eyes shot open, wide, and all her defiance and barriers came crashing down as pure pleasure shot through her body. Her hips squirmed beneath him, thighs tightening around his hand, and she couldn't stop the moans from pouring out of her throat, muffled against his lips. She leaned her head back, pressing it against the pillows, and his lips stayed firmly on top of hers as she moaned from deep in her throat.

He pulled away after a moment, looking down at her. Her face, her lips, were flushed red, her hair sticking to her forehead slightly with sweat, and there was raw lust in her mismatched eyes. Her hips still gyrated against his hand, and she bit down on her lip, holding back a grunt. She knew she was trapped under his control, and what was more, she thought she might like it.

"Feels good, huh, Lady?" His voice came out rather breathless.

She glared at him, didn't say anything. She couldn't speak.

"You like it, don't you?"

She still couldn't speak, but she shot daggers at him with her eyes. Or she tried, anyway, defiance clawing through the haze of lust.

His other hand traveled up to the buttons on her shirt and slowly began undoing them. As she saw more and more of her own skin exposed, until finally the top of her bra and cleavage were peeking through, she ground harder against his hand. He chuckled, looking down at the lacy, black fabric covering her breasts.

"Matching, huh? That's cute."

He leaned down until his lips were positioned above the tender skin between her collarbone and her cleavage, his breath hot against her. "It's like you were expecting me."

He placed a burning kiss on the skin, and her body broke out in goosebumps, her nipples hardening and pressing against the fabric. He kissed down further, further, until he kissed right in between her breasts, and the hand that wasn't beneath her skirt took one of them in his hand, running a thumb across the erect nipple through the fabric, making her shudder.

"D-Dante..."

He stopped kissing her long enough to look up and into her eyes, and she saw lust, arrogance, and love all swirling in the blue orbs at once. "Yes, babe?"

She struggled not to groan as she spoke. "I f-fucking hate you..."

He smiled, and leaned down to gently kiss the exposed side of the breast he was caressing before looking back up at her.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

**[XVIII]**

_I love you too sweetheart...I love you too..._

Everything was fuzzy and foggy as Lady finally opened her tired eyes with a sleepy groan. She shifted around in bed, clutching the warm comforter around her smooth skin. She felt more disoriented than she normally did after waking up. Her body was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and she felt smothered beneath the covers. She threw them down to her waist, and the sweat cooled her as it combined with the air. She rubbed her eyes before glancing around the room. A ray of sunlight peeked in through the closed shade on her window. As her eyes fell on her familiar room - her nightstand, her calendar, her carpet - she suddenly remembered it all.

_Dante._

She felt herself blush, and realized suddenly it had all been a dream. She had just had a dream about Dante. Furthermore, she had had one of THOSE dreams about Dante, and damn it all to Hell if it hadn't been one of the most realistic dreams she had ever had. She had to glance down at herself to make sure it had, in fact, all been a dream. Sure enough, she was in cotton shorts and a camisole, not her button-down blouse and skirt.

But it had been so _real. _She could still hear his voice in her head, so eerily accurate. A voice she hadn't heard in five months, but would recognize anywhere.

She rolled over onto her back, running a hand across her forehead, smoothing the bangs out of her face. She couldn't believe she had just dreamed about him, especially considering what the dream had entailed. _God, how pathetic is that? _Dreams were supposed to reveal your subconscious desires, but she'd be damned if her desires involved being dominated by that cocky bastard. She felt her blushing increase, embarrassed by the way she had behaved in her dream.

_Well, one thing is for sure. If he ever tried to pull a stunt like that in real life, I'd kick his ass straight back to the Underworld, no questions asked._

But as she shifted in bed, waking up, she was aware of the moisture between her thighs. Like it or not, the dream had gotten her worked up. Damn her subconscious. If it was going to torment her by making her fantasize against her will, the least it could do was let her FINISH. She burned dully, frustrated. She hated getting these types of dreams, and the fact that this time it had been about someone she actually knew made it worse. It made her feel weak.

_You won't admit to anything that might show signs of weakness. Even if it's something you really want._

She gave a small jolt as his voice echoed through her head again. Well, maybe that part of the dream had been true. Maybe that was what the real message of the dream was, what it had been trying to tell her. Being weak w_as _her biggest fear. She would rather be strong but unhappy than to give into something she was ashamed to admit she even wanted.

However, this didn't stop her hand from snaking down into her shorts, her underwear, and touching the warmth and wetness down there. She rolled over onto her stomach, resting her cheek against one arm, the other hand caressing herself. She didn't even realize she was doing it at first. She closed her eyes and saw him grinning at her. She remembered every detail of the dream and played through it in her mind, and as she pondered what could have happened if she hadn't woken up, the pace of her hand increased, her thighs clenching together. But it wasn't good enough. She groaned in frustration, her other hand squeezing the pillow. Damn him for doing this to her! Except it wasn't his fault, not really. It was her fault, it was her brain that had done this to her. Her stupid, betraying brain.

The frustration made her burn like fire, and this seemed to wake her up more, jolt her back to her senses. What the hell was she _doing_? This wasn't her twisted dream anymore, it was real life, and it was time to start acting like it. She'd never been the type to give into these types of things and she wasn't about to start now because of some stupid demon that wouldn't leave her mind.

So she slid out of bed, stretching. She checked the digital alarm clock on her nightstand - it was noon. Last night hadn't been particularly difficult - a couple of lesser hellspawn had decided to crash a park at midnight - but nonetheless, upon returning home she hadn't managed to fall asleep until four. She tended to be more awake at night. The darkness, the crisp night air, there was something empowering about it, something almost magical that seemed to awaken her senses. As she stood, she glanced at her calendar, and was only half surprised to discover the date.

So that part of her dream _had _been true. It really had been exactly five months to this day. Maybe that was why she had had the dream. She must have realized in the back of her head what day it was. _Yeah, that sounds like a good explanation. Let's go with that._

She headed for her bathroom to take a shower, hoping that as the day went the dream (and all of its side-effects) would fade, the way dreams usually do.

**[XVIII]**

Lady had always prided herself on being independent, even before her mother's death, back when her life had been closer to normal. She had never strived to fit in with the other children, or cared much to be friends with them. She had friends, of course, but they were always more like casual acquaintances than anything else. She didn't currently know where any of them were, and she didn't really care. When all the other girls had been into make-up and boys, Lady was more interested in firearms and motorcycles. She liked to look neat and feminine, but she was never one to spend lots of money on designer clothes, or waste time covering every imperfection on her face. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, she got plenty attention from the boys, but most of it was unwanted. Though she had liked the idea of getting married one day, she had never been one to bother with dating. And then once everything had happened, when the death of Mary had happened, her independence had become complete. The one person in life she felt that she truly _had _needed was gone, and she stopped caring about anyone else.

Now she didn't care about friends, or relationships, or boyfriends. She didn't _need _any of that. All her energy was consumed by her job, by her passion for ridding the world of the damned, and it was all she had time for, all she cared about. She was proud of her ability to survive on her own, and it was one of the reasons she felt guilty for accepting favors from others.

Because of this, she couldn't have been happier with her current situation. The house she lived in was _her _house; it belonged entirely to her. It was nothing fancy, but she didn't care. She was more concerned with practical, which was exactly what the house was. It had two stories, which was actually more than she needed. Downstairs was a living room, a kitchen, her bedroom with the attached bathroom. Upstairs were more rooms that served no purpose beyond storing her weapons, the various things she needed on her missions. The basement had been turned into a gym, and the small garage had turned into a workshop where she stored her bike.

She had come from a wealthy family before everything went to Hell. She and her parents had lived in a rather extravagant mansion, and she went to an elite Prep School. Despite this, she had never been spoiled. Her mother refused to give her everything she wanted, teaching her at a young age the importance of earning things yourself. Lady had never been into the fancy stuff, anyway. It wasn't her style. So after her mother was killed and her father disappeared, the transition from fancy mansion to quaint little house in the neighborhood hadn't phased her.

She had been considered an orphan, and this was the time when the insatiable thirst for revenge had filled her soul. She didn't want to live with anyone, didn't want to talk to anyone, just wanted to train herself, perfect her skills, use all the training she had gotten over the course of her life for a real purpose, but since she was still a minor, she couldn't move out on her own. The government put her in the care of her closest relative - an aunt, the sister of her mother. The two couldn't have been more opposite if they tried. Lady despised the woman; the two had never gotten along, and with the death of Kalina Ann, it only made things worse. Despite not liking her sister much, she seemed bitter about her death, and all the blame seemed to fall on Lady. Lady ignored her, spending her time working out, researching demons, and getting weapons made. Her aunt was never around much, and it was very quickly that a decision was made - she wouldn't be there at all anymore. She was quite wealthy herself, and the house in the outskirts of the city where Lady was staying was only one of the few she owned. The house had already been paid off in full, and she agreed to let Lady stay there. She packed her things and planned to live permanently in her other home, in a different state. This wasn't legal, since Lady was still underage, but they agreed to an "I-won't-tell-if-you-won't" deal, and she agreed to pass ownership of the house on to Lady as soon as she turned eighteen.

So Lady had been living alone in this house for a while now, and now that she was of age, it officially belonged to her. She had made it her own, turned it into her fortress, her sanctuary. She was almost never home - just to sleep, shower, and occasionally eat, really - but the knowledge that it existed made her feel better nonetheless.

These were the things she pondered as she stepped out of the shower that afternoon, a white towel wrapped snuggly around her frame. The small room was thick with humidity, the mirror fogged over. She brought a hand across it, smudging away the steam until she could see her face in the glass. Her dark hair was matted to her head, drops of water dripping down her neck, onto her bare shoulders. Her left shoulder still had scars, left over from that mission two months ago where that demon had clawed her. She ran her fingers over it, feeling the damaged skin. Her right arm had some scars now, too, not directly on the shoulder, but on the upper arm. In the cleared away fog on the mirror, she could only see herself from the shoulders up, but in that small area alone she counted six scars. Three on the shoulder where she had been grabbed, two small ones on her upper arm, and of course the one across the bridge of her nose.

She wondered how many covered her body in total. She let the towel slip away from her figure, glancing down at herself. Most of the scars were on her arms and legs, especially her legs. It made sense, since her legs were always exposed. She almost always wore shorts or a skirt - she hated the feel of her legs being constricted, even by something as simple as clothing. They were one of her most powerful weapons, and as a result of that, they had seen some of the worst damage. Scars ran all over her thighs, her calves, and of course the mother of them all glared from the back of her right thigh. She couldn't see it well, but even just running her fingers across it let her know how bad it was. If there was any scar that would never fade, it was that one.

Dante had probably been right. It probably _had _needed stitches, but she had never gotten them. It was a wonder it had healed at all. Running her fingers across the butchered skin seemed to trigger all sorts of negative emotions, so she quickly pulled her hand away, sighing. She was glad it was in a spot where she wouldn't really notice it.

She left the bathroom with the towel still wrapped around her body, heading for her closet. Her bedroom door was closed, and as she passed it she paused, listening. All was silent, and she scowled at herself, realizing she had been half-expecting Dante to burst in at any moment. So much for letting go of the dream. She opened her closet door, shifting through the clothes inside half-heartedly. She had a day off today, or at least she hadn't gotten any calls yet. On days off she usually spent the time practicing in some way, either working out in the basement or browsing through the gun shop in the city. But as she rifled through the clothing hangers, a different idea popped into her head, something else she could do that she had never done before.

Maybe she _should _pay him a visit.

By now the dream had faded quite a bit, feeling just like that - a dream, a foggy, unimportant dream, unlike when she had first woken up and it had felt as real as could be. She didn't feel quite as embarrassed when she thought about it anymore, and now more than anything she just felt curious. What was he up to? Her more competitive nature wondered if his little business was going as successfully as hers. Plus, he was probably more up-to-date with the latest happenings in the demonic realm than she was. It would be useful to stay in contact with him.

Not to mention, she thought as she began getting dressed, it _would _be kind of nice to have someone to talk to. The only times she ever talked to anyone was when she was discussing her missions, or ordering a new weapon. She had become rather friendly with the men at the motorcycle and ammunition shops, but to have a real conversation with a friend would be nice. Not that she was sure if they were really _friends, _but they were...something.

_Doesn't mean I NEED anyone, _she thought. _It just would kind of be nice to have someone to talk to, every once in a while._

But she didn't want to rush out right away. She really wanted to think about it first, make sure she felt like making the journey out. It was an hour's drive, and for all she knew, he might not even be there when she arrived, anyway. It wasn't something to just do the moment it popped into her head.

She glanced at her calendar.

_Five months. Five months exactly._

Maybe it really was time to do something.

* * *

**A/N: **Part of me is really worried this chapter just feels like some unnecessary smut, so in case you got that feeling too, here's my explanation. Lady's dream IS relevant to the story, for one because it's what finally brings the idea of reuniting with Dante to her head (he will be in the next chapter, for real, not just in a dream), and for two, the underlying message of the dream - that she has trouble letting herself go enough to listen to her heart - will play a strong part in the rest of the story.

Also, remember, I'm not the one who comes up with the themes. In case you forgot, each title of each chapter is actually a prompt that I try to base the chapter on. And with a theme like "Kiss It Better", I HAD to do something naughty. I couldn't not. :P


	19. Go Down in Flames

**WARNING: **Really freaking long chapter alert.

* * *

**_Chapter Nineteen - Go Down in Flames_**

**[XIX]**

Something was bothering Dante.

What was _really _bothering him, though, was that he didn't know what was bothering him. But something was. It was a night just like any other - in fact, it was a night more relaxing than any other because he didn't have anything to do. His feet were propped up on his desk, a magazine in his hands as he waited for someone to call, or something to happen. Music played in the background, hard rock emanating from the jukebox in the corner. Everything seemed calm, but there was a certain feeling in the air, the feeling that something dangerous was on the horizon. It was this feeling that was bothering him, a feeling that he couldn't shake.

The feeling could be nothing, or it could just be something small, or it could be the biggest threat he had ever faced in his life. He had no way of knowing, and that was what bothered him. If there was something out there, something bad waiting to happen, he wanted to know so he could get himself ready to kick some ass. If it was nothing at all, he wanted to know so he could relax properly. But he didn't know what the feeling lightly tugging at his insides was, so he only flipped through the magazine half-heartedly, his eyes not really seeing the pictures and words. The interior of his shop was well-lit, but outside it was dark, even with the lights of the city glaring. Beyond the music filling the room, he could hear cars passing by, though the noisy chatter of the city had faded somewhat by now.

It had felt so good to come back to this place. It had gotten wrecked before, but never completely _destroyed. _In the time he had spent with Enzo waiting for it to get repaired, he realized just how much he missed the shitty little building. And it wasn't _shitty, _really. It was a perfectly fine place to live. Though he was probably biased since he had started having withdrawals after awhile, not to mention he had cleaned it up quite a bit. It wasn't just his home; it was his _business_, as of a few months ago. He had to keep the place looking a bit more professional now, after all.

Okay, so maybe "professional" was a massive understatement. And maybe he hadn't really cleaned it up all that much. There were still some pizza boxes on the floor, though at least they were stacked neatly beside his desk, with the exception of the one still containing a few slices sitting on top of it. There were empty bottles of beer and tomato juice on the floor, too, but at least he had managed to keep them in the general area of the fridge. And the clutter of speakers, drums, and guitars in the left corner, combined with the few posters of near-naked women decorating the walls, gave the room the feel of a teenage boy's bedroom more than anything else.

But, hey. He had a spiffy neon sign hanging outside that informed the world of his shop's name. That had to count for something. Not to mention demon skulls mounted on the walls as trophies, signs of his conquests and victories. After the incident at Temen-ni-gru, he hadn't had any big game to deal with, but when his business had finally officially opened, he'd been so pumped he hadn't cared. His first assignment had been to take out a handful of Hells that how somehow found their way downtown, and he had proceeded to thoroughly kick their asses and then drag their bloody remains home as trophies with unmasked glee.

So the room was a good balance, he figured. One half showed business Dante, and the other showed Dante after hours. Though he wasn't sure if it was really fair to balance the room evenly, because he seemed to be spending much more time in the "after hours" department. His business wasn't quite booming the way he had hoped. Things were mostly the same as before; most of the calls he got were from people without the password, oblivious to what the details of his true career entailed. Of course, that was how it had always been; he shouldn't have expected things to change just because he had a name for what he did now.

Nonetheless, things had been looking up. After all the money it had taken to fix this place, he wasn't exactly rich, but he had enough to get by. Just enough, but still. Dealing with putting the shop back together, officially starting a business, and kicking demon ass had distracted him from his more personal problems, and he hadn't had a night like the one following Temen-ni-gru in a while. The time where he was stuck at Enzo's house without much to keep him occupied had been pretty miserable, but that was behind him now. Time to get a grip and move on.

So for tonight, he just wanted to relax...but there was still that feeling inside of him, that uneasy feeling that something wicked was lurking around the corner. His instincts and intuition were well-developed, which is why he worried that his feeling was more than just indigestion from his poor eating habits.

But what could it be?

The room was mostly silent, with only the sound of the music playing, the cars outside, and the magazine pages idly flipping. If he hadn't been so lost in thought, he may have heard the engine of a motorcycle coming to a stop not far from his front door. He may have heard the boots thumping against his front steps. He may have been less surprised when the door creaked open, momentarily increasing the volume of the city noise outside, filling the interior with a combination of darkness and city lights.

He glanced up from his magazine, a bit surprised he was receiving a visit so late at night, but not really phased. A remarkable number of people seemed to have no problems just barging into his shop without knocking, so he had gotten used to it. He opened his mouth, about to arch an eyebrow and inform the intruder of the bathroom's location, when his throat went dry and his eyes widened.

A young woman was standing casually in the doorway. She had one hand on her hip and was glancing around the place with a critical eye, almost as if she were a land surveyor, but with more curiosity.

He recognized her instantly.

Her hair was a little longer, almost down to her chin, but for the most part it looked the same, still sticking out in that peculiar way. The last time he had seen her, her shirt had been white, a contrast to her hair, but this time it matched the ebony shade. It was the same style as the last one, a professional-looking button-down blouse, with a stiff collar and rolled-up sleeves. There were denim shorts hugging her body, with the same holsters on her waist and thigh that he remembered, weapons clinging tight. She didn't have her missile launcher with her, though. And her boots, they were different, a shiny black material, one of which was decorated with long scratches. These ones had heels, making her look a little taller than he remembered, though she was still short.

She stood there, her small frame outlined by the city lights, and he sat there, utterly surprised and at a loss for words. His stomach flipped, half because of the surprise and half because of how gorgeous she still looked, just like he had remembered. Better, actually. He tried to form words. His mouth was still dry.

Finally, after what felt like ages, her wandering eyes met his. He closed his mouth, not wanting to look caught off guard, especially not when she looked so calm and composed. The smallest hint of a grin formed on her face.

"Hmm. Not a bad place you have here." She said finally. Her voice was how he had remembered, too.

With the ice broken, he suddenly seemed to come back to his senses. Shock was replaced by a mischievous sort of excitement, as well as a genuine happiness. He let the magazine drop to the desk and tilted the chair backwards, bringing his hands up and behind his head casually. He grinned.

"Well, well, well. Now if this isn't a pleasant surprise." She had closed the door behind her and was taking a few steps further into the room, still examining his surroundings. He allowed his eyes to roam briefly over her body before returning them to her face. "I was wondering when you'd show up again, babe. I knew it was only a matter of time before the separation anxiety got to you."

"Don't flatter yourself. It's just been awhile and I thought I should check up on the competition." Her voice was cool and composed, so much he almost believed her for a second. But then, as she approached nearer to his desk, she dared to look at him, and he could see the joking glimmer in her eyes. He chuckled.

"That's cold, Lady. Guess I shouldn't be surprised." He paused. "It has been awhile, huh?"

"Mmm." She made a small noise of agreement, eyes scanning over the demon remains stabbed to the wall. A small smile actually graced her face at the sight of those. "Looks like you've been busy."

"Well, of course. I'm a hard-working man. I don't just sit around eating pizza all day, you know." Actually, he did that quite often, but she didn't have to know that. She scoffed, having finally reached his desk. She looked down at the box of greasy, half-eaten pizza that sat there.

"Could've had me fooled." Her eyes fell on the Force Edge, the sword that had belonged to his father, which happened to be mounted on the wall over the breasts of a topless model in a poster. Her face scrunched up ever so slightly in disgust. "This place looks more like a bachelor pad than a business to me."

Dante flinched inwardly, realizing how many points that particular poster would probably lose him. He tried to defend himself.

"Well, of course it does. I don't just work here, I _live _here."

"Clearly."

He chuckled. "Well, it's better than staying with Enzo." He tilted further back in the chair, balancing dangerously on the two back legs. "So. How'd you find me, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I figured your place would be rebuilt by now, in the same place where it got torn down."

"You remembered where I lived after all this time?"

"Well, the giant neon sign outside helped, too." She smirked.

"Oh, right. That. Just got that installed, actually, I keep forgetting it's there."

"Mmhm. So..." She folded her arms and paced slowly in front of his desk, her demeanor telling him she knew something. "'Devil May Cry'...that's an interesting name."

His eyes widened as he suddenly remembered where he had gotten the name in the first place. That little embarrassing moment with her he had hoped she'd never remember. Maybe it hadn't been so smart putting up a blazing reminder of it outside his door. But then, he'd been mostly convinced he'd never see her again.

"How long did it take you to come up with that one?" She was still smirking. He decided to play along.

"Eh, cost me a few sleepless nights. But you know me, dedicated to the cause."

"Of course," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. But she was smiling.

He grinned then, too, and for a moment there was silence as her eyes focused on the various weapons mounted on the wall behind him. He kept his eyes on her as she wandered to the spot where Ebony and Ivory were mounted on the wall.

"So," he finally said. "What're you really doing here, Lady? You didn't come all this way just to mock me, did you?"

"Well, that was part of the appeal." She folded her arms beneath her chest and leaned a shoulder against the wall. "But I just thought I'd stop by and see how things are looking on the demonic scale in this part of the city."

"Well, haven't had to deal with much worse than the likes of these unfortunate bastards." He gestured to the bloody remains of the Hells held via dagger on his wall. "How about on your end?"

She shrugged. "Nothing too nasty. Quite a few types I'd never seen before, but nothing I couldn't handle."

"Like what?"

"Well...some could disguise themselves as humans. In fact, I've come across a lot of those."

"Yeah, that's a pretty common thing. It's a sign of intelligence. They know how to adapt to their environment. Only the lowest levels of demons actually invade the human world still looking like demons...even though there are a lot of those too."

She nodded. It was a concept she had finally gotten used to. "And here I was thinking you were the only demon who looked human."

"Nope, they're out there, babe." He grinned. "None as nice to look at as me, though."

She scoffed, but he could sense that his comment made her a little uncomfortable, judging by the way she fidgeted slightly against the wall. However, she kept her voice smooth. "I see wearing clothing hasn't gotten rid of your narcissism."

He glanced down at himself innocently. Indeed, he had grown out of the whole fighting-evil-while-half-naked thing. His previously bare torso was covered with a form-fitting, long-sleeved black shirt and a red vest.

"Come on, I know you're just saying that to hide your disappointment. Well, hey, if you don't like this look I'm more than willing to take the shirt off, just for you."

She _did _blush at that one, and behind his testosterone-induced ego increase, he wondered why she seemed a bit more easily flustered than he remembered her being the last time they had met. Not that he minded. In fact, he was very much enjoying it. But still, he couldn't help but wonder.

"I see you're still as obnoxious as ever."

"Aw, come on, Lady. I know you really came back because you missed me, don't deny it."

"Did you miss _me_?" She demanded, as though expecting "no" for an answer.

"'Course I did. Do you know what the population of devil-hunting babes is around here? Zero." When she seemed unable to respond to that, he continued. "In fact, I think you may be the only one currently in existence. You have a rep to maintain."

"Well, don't worry. I'm not stopping until Hell is empty."

He grinned. "That's what I like to hear."

She actually smiled at that, though again seemed unable to hold his gaze. Her eyes instead drifted back to the twin pistols on the wall. Suddenly, her brow furrowed as she was distracted by something. She looked back at him.

"So. Who's Tony Redgrave?"

He clomped forward then, the chair again resting on all of its legs as he stood and walked towards the wall where his beloved handguns were mounted.

"That's my alias." He picked Ebony up and held it in his hands. "See, I can't exactly go around telling the whole world I'm Dante, son of Sparda. As I'm sure you know, a lot of humans don't even believe in demons. Not to mention every demon in the Underworld wants me dead. Most of those assholes are no problem, but there _are _some ones to worry about out there." Lady noticed that his eyes had suddenly clouded over, as if a bad memory was playing across his vision. "So I guess you could call it a safety precaution. Legally, I'm Tony Redgrave. Been that way since I was a kid." He twirled the gun briefly around his finger before caressing the barrel in what could only be described as a loving way, reminding Lady of her own passion for firearms. "This baby was the first weapon I got made myself. Everything up 'till then had been passed down from my father."

Lady nodded, drinking in everything he had just said. She pondered how awful that must be, knowing your name was number one on the hit list of every creature in Hell. She knew if she was in that situation she'd feel the constant need to look over her shoulder. Ever since her father's betrayal and the realization that demons walked among them, she had always felt like looking over her shoulder, anyway. But at least she wasn't being hunted. _She _was the hunter. He was a mix of both, it seemed.

"So, I think I should ask you the same."

His voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Huh?"

"Your rocket launcher. It had the name 'Kalina Ann' engraved on the side. Who is she?"

She looked away. "That was my mother's name." She said softly.

"Ah." He nodded. The air between them suddenly felt thick with an awkward, though not entirely uncomfortable, tension, so he switched to a light-hearted tone, once again twirling the gun around his finger. "So, why don't you have it with you tonight? I almost didn't recognize you without heavy machinery strapped to your back."

She shrugged. "It's kind of pointless to carry around when I'm not on a mission."

"Ah, so you really _did _travel all this way just to see me. Come on, you missed me. Just admit it."

She glared, but it wasn't convincing. "Well, maybe I was staring to get a little bored."

"See? I knew it."

"That's not the same thing as 'missed'."

"Come on, why do gotta fight it?"

"You know, just because you're obsessed with yourself doesn't mean everyone else is obsessed with _you_."

"I didn't say you were _obsessed_, did I? But is it so hard to admit that you don't hate me anymore?"

"Fine, I don't _hate _you anymore."

And then they were both grinning, because he knew that she really had missed him, and she knew that he knew, and what was more, she didn't care. Despite the violent and hate-filled way their relationship had started out, she had felt a connection to the demon once all was said and done, when she found out who he really was. She almost felt guilty about her past prejudices against him. That was another thing her mother had always taught her - don't judge somebody until you get to know them. Of course, her mother may have felt differently about demons...

Still, she felt comfortable around him now, and the air between them was calm and friendly. Despite how long it had been since she last saw him, it suddenly felt like not a day had passed. He probably was the closest thing to a friend that she had, and she didn't know it, but he was thinking something similar.

After a moment of silence, however, they realized someone needed to start talking again before the silence began to get awkward, with only the music playing in the background. Dante wondered what the hell she exactly planned on doing while she was here. Surely she planned on staying longer than a few minutes, since it was a pretty far journey from her house to his. He distracted himself with Ebony, going back to sit down while flipping the gun around his finger.

"So," she continued. "Do you actually play pool or is that just for show?"

He looked up and saw that she was motioning towards the corner where his velvet-coated pool table was sitting, balls scattered across the surface. He grinned.

"Do I _play_? Baby, I'm the king."

She smirked. "Really. I wouldn't be so sure."

He had been leaning backwards on the chair, but at this threat he clomped forward again. "Oh, really? You implying that you think you're better than me?"

"Well, I haven't played in a while. But I bet I could still kick your ass." She had reached the table by now and picked up one of the poles, examining it. She had to admit, it was a quality table. The sight of it brought back a little excitement. Back when she had still been in school, whenever she had hung out with anyone they had often ended up going to a pool hall. She had learned the ways of the game and become very good at it, unparalleled by anyone she knew. Of course, she hadn't played in a long time, but the sight of the table reminded her how much she used to love and kick ass at it. She didn't know how good Dante was, but the idea of beating him was more than a little appealing.

"Oh, trust me. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

She was gathering the balls into the center, maneuvering around the table to reach them all. She was smirking, clearly not swayed by his threat. Regardless of whether she could beat him or not, she must have been pretty skilled to be so confident. The thought only made him more attracted to her, manifesting as a sort of springy warmth in his heart. He was physically attracted to almost every female he knew, but Lady was different from any he had ever met. A chick that drove motorcycles, loved heavy weaponry (and knew how to use it), played pool, and God only knew what else. And on top of all that, she was beautiful. He watched her as she set up the balls, joining them in the middle.

It was crazy, really. He'd never for the life of him figure out how she could do all the things she did. She was short and thin, body full of delicate curves most women would die for. If it weren't for her scars and state of being constantly armed, you wouldn't have guessed she could kick ass the way she could. Despite her strength, she looked too small to do anything serious. Of course, that was probably one of her best weapons - throwing people off guard. There was so much fire bundled up in that little package, a destructive flame that would go unnoticed by those who weren't looking carefully.

Her combination of femininity and strength, cold metal and smooth skin, intrigued him and drove him crazy. It was exactly the sort of thing he was attracted to - someone who was a challenge. While he liked the stereotypical idea of being the hero, rescuing a damsel in distress, in the long run he'd much rather be with a girl who could save her own ass. Someone who could keep up with him, or at least as much as a human was capable of doing. That was Lady all over. Independent to the point of being stubborn, hard and defensive on the outside, but capable of lowering the barriers just a little and showing an inner softness. That was the most intriguing part. He suspected that there was a lot of her she didn't show much, an inner vulnerability she refused to show the world. He wanted to see that side. He wanted her to open it up to him.

She briefly had a few times that he could recall, the most memorable of which being after he had defeated her when she'd tried to kill him in the library, back at Temen-ni-gru. He had gotten close to her and had sensed her defeat, her weakness. When she had looked up at him in that moment her gaze was defiant, but there was so much softness behind her eyes. There was sadness there, too. She had looked so pretty and vulnerable his instincts had screamed at him to take her into his arms, kiss her, assure her it would all be okay, that'd he keep her safe from the fucked up world. He had leaned forward to kiss her without really thinking, driven by something deep inside him, and her rejection had snapped him back to his senses. Later he realized what a stupid thing that had been to do, trying to kiss someone whose ass you just kicked.

But the point was, he knew there was another side to her, one she stubbornly kept hidden. Though he couldn't blame her; there were plenty of hidden sides to him, as well. There was a spot in his heart that was vulnerable and sad, a weakness he would rather die than show. But he wanted to expose that side of her more than he'd wanted anything in a while. He wanted _her_ more than he could recall wanting any woman before. It had never been too difficult for him to pick up any girl he wanted, but they all seemed the same after a while. Too easy. Lady was a challenge, someone he could respect and be friends with, but who refused to give any part of herself away. He wanted to bring the barriers down. He wanted to know what she'd feel like in his arms, what she tasted like, what his name would sound like on her lips in the midst of passion. The very thought of that was enough to send him over the edge.

But he had to control his thoughts and keep it to himself. Who the hell was he kidding? She was more virginal than the Virgin Mary herself, who she was no doubt named after. If he ever got so much as a kiss from her it'd be a miracle.

But that didn't mean he couldn't try. She had come to _him, _after all. That had to mean something.

He sat down on his desk and swiveled around, boots clomping down onto the floor, and headed for the table. She had neatly set the balls in a triangle, and after removing the rack she tossed him a cue stick over her shoulder without even looking. He reached out a hand and caught it.

"So you're really challenging me, huh, Lady?"

"What's wrong? Afraid of getting your ass handed to you?"

He chuckled. "Well, I was just trying to be nice and save you the humiliation of losing, but I guess now I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson."

She smirked. "We'll see who teaches who."

They proceeded to launch into a very evenly-matched game, with Dante breaking first. He taunted her playfully throughout the whole ordeal, and she taunted back, sometimes not quite as playfully when it seemed clear he was steadily winning. The upper hand seemed to switch back and forth between the two, marking one of the closest games both of them had ever played, but when almost all of the balls were sunk, it was clear Dante was the soon-to-be victor. All of the solid balls had found their way into the pockets, but a few striped still remained. All he had to do was sink the 8-ball and the game would be his.

Sure enough, he did.

Lady's shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. She couldn't remember anyone ever beating her, with the exception of when she had been a beginner. Of course, it had been a while, but still. Now she would never hear the end of it.

"Oho, would ya look at that." He propped the cue stick against the floor like a walking stick and leaned against it, a rather obnoxiously-large (in Lady's opinion) grin on his face. "Looks like I've just won. Now, what was that you said before about kicking my ass?"

She grumbled, setting the stick back on the table a bit roughly. "You got lucky. Besides, I haven't played in almost two years."

He chuckled. "No good making up excuses, babe. I won fair and square." Her glare only served to amuse him more. He set the stick back on the table. "If it's any consolation, that was possibly the closest game I've ever played."

"Yeah, whatever." Clearly, that didn't make her feel any better about the fact that she had just lost.

He chuckled again at her slightly childish attitude, her arms folded. He walked to stand next to her and then folded his own arms, leaning against the table.

Well, no time like the present.

"You know..." He sighed, casually stretching his arm out and leaning against the pool table. She looked down at it suspiciously as it grazed against her back. "I'm sure I could find _some_ way to make it up to you."

He felt her freeze slightly at the suggestive tone of his voice, and she turned to look at him, an eyebrow arched. She looked like she was going to roll her eyes and act haughty like she normally did when he joked around with her and made innuendos, but when she saw how serious he looked she seemed taken aback suddenly. She noticed he was studying her reaction a bit more intensely than normal, and he wasn't actually grinning. He inched closer to her, hand sliding along the table, and she remained frozen, apparently trying to decide how she was supposed to react.

He looked down into her surprised face and had a massive attack of deja vu. It was just like the last time they had been in this situation, except she looked even more flustered this time because she knew what his intentions were. She looked defiant, but like last time, he could sense that it was only a mask. He could see the surprise behind her eyes, the innocent fear that she went out of her way to hide. Just like last time, seeing this hidden softness fighting its way to the surface made everything in his body want to reach out and hold her, touch her, kiss her. Her eyes roamed to the side, avoiding his gaze, and he focused on her lips instead, red and soft. The urge to taste them was overwhelming, but he wanted to be careful to make sure she was okay with it. If he did something that really upset her he could fuck everything up for good.

So he waited until she dared to look back into his eyes, and when she did, he leaned forward slowly, unable to resist anymore. He somehow managed to pray in the milisecond it took to reach her face that she wouldn't turn away again, because if she did it would ruin everything they had built between them, not to mention he'd hate himself for being stupid enough to try this again.

She didn't.

Their lips connected, and at first neither of them could believe it. Her lips were soft, full, warm. The feel of them combined with his thoughts from before and the anticipation of this moment sent every part of his body on fire. He had to use all of his willpower not to grab her and simply _smother _her. His body wanted to pin her down against the pool table and take her right then and there, but he fought down his carnal desires and simply rested a hand lightly on her waist. Her body felt stiff beneath his hand.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it left both of them light-headed. He didn't want to pull away, but he knew he needed to see her reaction before attempting to go any further. He opened his half-lidded eyes only to find that hers were still closed, her lips parted slightly. They fluttered open and were directly in line with his, and he saw it, for just a split second. For a second he saw the softness, uncensored, with no barriers to hide behind. She quickly brought her shield back up, hardening her gaze as she looked away, but it was too late.

For a moment they simply stood there, the only noise the distant music from the jukebox. The tip of her tongue flicked out, running over her lips nervously. He finally spoke up, letting out a chuckle that was a bit more nervous than usual.

"You actually let me that time."

She dared to look back at him, and a hint of a smirk played across her face. "I just wanted to see if you'd actually do it." Her voice was still cool and composed, but softer.

"Well, I just wanted to see if you'd actually_ let _me."

They were both grinning now, at the awkwardness and the weirdness of the situation, grins fueled by the giddiness that came from the sudden high the brief connection had given them. So they stood there, Lady smirking in a way that implied she was trying to hold back a laugh, Dante grinning like a fool, and in that moment he leaned forward to kiss her again, bringing a hand up to cup the side of her face.

_That _time she turned away.

His lips met her cheek, stopping just in time, touching the skin so softly it felt like the caress of a ghost. His fingers touched her other cheek and ran lightly down it as he pulled away slowly. Her head was turned away from him, looking down at the ground. She wasn't smiling anymore.

He sighed, suddenly feeling foolish for thinking he could've expected anything more. He felt his own face flushing at her rejection, something he wasn't used to dealing with, and somehow Lady's rejection felt like more of a lethal blow than that of the other women he'd been rejected by in the past. He turned from her, walking a few feet away, nervously driving a fist into his palm.

"So...just once, huh?"

And suddenly he felt just a little bit pissed, because she clearly wanted this, too. Her reaction and the way she had pressed lightly against his lips during the kiss informed him of that, not to mention his heightened senses. She wasn't turning away because she didn't want him to kiss her. She was turning away because she was afraid to let the barriers drop.

"Dante..." she must have sensed that he knew this, because her voice sounded apologetic. He turned back around and looked at her. She was still looking at the floor, one hand caressing the opposite arm nervously. "It's just...I mean...I..."

He sighed. "Look, you don't have to explain anything, babe. I know when I'm not wanted." He made to head back to his desk, but to his partial surprise, she reached out and grasped his forearm, bringing him to a halt. He looked down at her, eyebrows slightly raised. She still wouldn't look at him.

"Wait." She hesitated a moment, as if deciding how to word what she wanted to say. "It's just...I didn't come here because...I was planning to do anything..."

"Don't worry, I didn't think you did. I know you're not the type."

"...I really did just come to see how you were doing, I didn't think..."

"I know."

She finally looked up at him, and she nodded. "It's just...something like that...could ruin everything..."

She didn't need to say anymore. They both knew their relationship hadn't exactly started off well, and given the fact that they both had dominant (and therefore conflicting) personalities, it probably wouldn't take much to throw their mutual agreement off balance. They were on much better terms than when they had first met, but there were still a few eggshells left to walk on. And if there was one thing Dante knew, it was that she was right - these sorts of things could complicate, or even ruin, a relationship faster than you could say "friends with benefits".

But that thought didn't make him want her any less. It was more than a want now. It felt like a need. The thought of just tasting those lips and not being able to touch any more was extremely frustrating.

He pulled his arm away from her hand. "Look, don't worry about it, okay Lady? You're right. I get it. It was my fault." He sighed, beginning towards his desk again, doing his best to switch the tone to casual. "I've never been one to try to talk someone into something they didn't want to do, so if you want, we can just pretend that little moment never happened. Just a mistake. Though you'll have to accept that if you stay any longer, it's going to get a little awkward in here tonight - "

"I didn't say it was a mistake."

He paused as he almost reached his desk, turning around to look at her.

"We can't just pretend it didn't happen. It _did _happen, if we try to ignore it it'll just make things worse."

His eyebrows raised slightly. What exactly was she getting at?

"It's just..." she looked away from him again, slumped against the pool table. He started back towards her slowly. She looked like she was doing something very difficult for her - admitting

weakness. Her voice had lowered considerably. "I don't...I've never..."

She didn't need to finish. He understood. So that was part of her fear. He'd been so caught up in the moment he'd forgotten she was still a virgin, and not only that but had probably never been remotely romantic with anyone, though it didn't surprise him at all. It fit perfectly with her fierce and independent nature. Still, with this sudden "revelation", she looked smaller, vulnerable. She could battle him at pool and in combat, but when it came to this stuff she was lost and frightened, afraid to give herself away. This only increased his desire, and it also increased something deeper in him, a need to protect, to assure her it'd all be okay. Just like at the tower. He was in front of her again, and he reached a hand out and cupped the side of her face. He didn't move it, letting her continue to gaze at the floor, but he ran a thumb over the smooth skin slowly.

"By now you know I wouldn't hurt you, right?"

She looked back up at him, a young and nervous girl behind her scars and determined gaze. For a moment she almost looked amazed, possibly at the idea that there was someone who existed who _didn't _want to hurt her (after the whole fiasco with her father, he doubted she trusted anyone), but then she smirked, unable to help it.

"You couldn't hurt me anyway. I'd kick your ass."

He grinned then, chuckling with relief more than anything else. The nervous tension between them seemed to have dropped considerably with her playful (but at the same time serious) comment. He played along.

"Yeah, you got a point there, babe. But hey, if you want to kick my ass anyway, by all means. I like it rough, you know."

She actually laughed at that, a combination of nerves and giddiness. "You're impossible."

"Maybe you should teach me a lesson."

"I'll teach you a lesson, alright."

And then they were both grinning and chuckling like they were on drugs, but they only high they were experiencing was the pleasant but awkward rush of hormones, of excitement. He waited until she was smiling and looking right at him before he leaned forward to kiss her again.

This time she let him. The kiss was more powerful than before, both pressing down a bit harder. The tension from before only served to make the kiss simmer more, and both of their bodies were burning when he pulled away.

Both were silent for a moment, breathing a bit heavily. She still looked nervous, but she reached forward then, gripping one of the straps on the front of his vest. He stood still, waiting for her to do something, but she simply gripped his vest as if for support, again looking as though she were choosing her words carefully. Finally she looked back up at him.

"Dante, just...promise me. If we do this...it won't change anything. No strings attached."

He nodded, and the knowledge that this was actually going to happen, that she was really going to let him do this, hit him like a brick wall. He felt a bit stunned, speechless. He heard himself say, "Of course. No strings attached." but his voice felt distant. His head was swimming, and he felt like he was in a daze until they began kissing again.

The kiss was longer this time, less soft and delicate, though he made sure to be careful with her. She was hardly a delicate girl, but this was still a delicate situation, and he wanted her to feel safe. He was actually a bit nervous himself, because this was a situation he had never been in before, either. He had never been with a virgin. Even when he lost his own virginity, quite a few years ago now, it had been with an experienced woman. He had to be careful not to rush, to remember this was her first time. The last thing he wanted to do was make it a bad memory. Worse still, he didn't want to ruin their budding friendship, a friendship that could be easily destroyed.

So he was careful about easing her into a deeper kiss, only flicking his tongue over her lips when she seemed to be devouring his rather hungrily. She opened her mouth a bit hesitantly and he let himself explore it. Her soft tongue moved slowly, uncertain about what to do, but after some easing from his, she increased the speed, exploring him in the same way. His hands had been resting lightly on her waist, but he wrapped both arms around her now, pulling her into a hug against his body. Her own arms snaked up and around his neck, squeezing him just as tightly. He felt her breasts, her hips, press against him, and was more than a little eager to take this further. They would do this thing the right way - in the bedroom. That was where he would take her.

But first...

His hands snaked down and cupped the underside of her thighs. She let out a muffled noise of surprise as he hoisted her up so that she was sitting on the table. He pulled away. Her eyebrows bunched together in confusion, and he was pleased to see she looked a little disappointed that he had pulled away. Her lips were flushed a darker shade of red and glistening, wet from him. The sight of that alone made him begin to harden, but he kept focused on the task at hand.

He reached to her waist where her pistols were holstered and removed them simultaneously from her belt, his left hand removing the one behind her and the right hand the one in front. He held them both in front of her, and her eyes widened briefly with anger at the sight of him disarming her, touching her precious weapons, but he laid them down on the pool table.

"These would get in the way." He explained with a grin. "And trust me, you won't be needing them."

Her face calmed at this explanation, and she remained silent as his hand ran smoothly down her thigh, down to where another holster was buckled firmly around the smooth skin. He unbuckled it, keeping the weapon secured inside, and laid that with the others on the velvety surface. He kept his hand on her thigh, running it over the scarred but silky skin, and waited to see what she would do.

She looked down at her weapons a bit nervously, realizing this was where they truly crossed the border. She was going to have to trust him completely. If something happened, she wouldn't be able to defend herself now. But nothing _would _happen, she knew it as surely as she knew her own name, and she decided to attempt to take matters into her own hands. She wanted to control as much of this as she could.

She reached forward and unbuckled the first strap on his vest a bit aggressively. His eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Well, _you _won't be needing _this._"

The strap came undone, and she continued down, unbuckling more, exposing the tight, silky fabric of the shirt that clung to his muscles like a second skin. He chuckled, unable to stop his face from breaking into a wide grin at her actions.

"Yes, ma'am." He teased, and she smirked as she undid the straps until the red vest was split down the middle. He stood still, allowing her to take control, his hand still on her thigh. She brought her hands up and rested them on his shoulders. She could feel his toned muscle through the shirt, and she smoothed her hands over the broad shoulders slowly, easing the vest off. He maneuvered out of it and it slid to the floor. She was frozen, staring mesmerized at his upper body. The shirt left nothing to the imagination, hugging every ridge and curve of his torso. Since her frozen state left her unable to remove it herself, he did the honors, reaching down and pulling the shirt over his head in one swift motion. He let it drop to the floor with the vest, leaving him naked from the waist up. Only his mother's amulet hung around his neck. He watched her eyes flick over the skin and grinned.

"I knew you preferred me this way."

She blushed, but smirked. "Well, you _are _more appealing without clothes on."

He chuckled, then grasped her upper arms lightly, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"I'm sure I'll be saying the same about _you_."

Before she could say anything, he kissed the spot beneath her ear. Her lips parted, letting out a small, content sigh as his lips planted burning kisses down the side of her neck. She was reminded of her dream and suddenly felt nervous, but this version of Dante was so much different than the dream one had been that her nerves faded soon enough. The way he moved was slow, gentle, erotic. She ran her hands over his smooth shoulders and back as he flicked his tongue against the skin on her neck teasingly, before taking it into his teeth and nipping softly.

"Ah..."

She made a noise of surprise, light pain, and pleasure all in one. She hadn't expected him to do that, but the slight pinch of his teeth against her skin felt better than she could have expected. She closed her eyes, the lust making her sleepy, and leaned her head forward, allowing herself to enjoy him for once. Her forehead was against his shoulder as she rested her head, and she inhaled deeply, finding something comforting about the way he smelled. It was a clean and sweaty smell at the same time, something distinctly masculine. She felt his warm tongue flick across her skin again and let out another soft sigh that was more like a repressed moan, and opened her eyes. When she did, she inhaled sharply.

There was a bulge - and a rather large one, at that - pressing against the tight leather of his red pants. For some reason, she hadn't been thinking about that. He hadn't gotten an erection in her dream, but of course, her subconscious wasn't super familiar (or concerned) with the male anatomy. The sight of him so aroused, and the knowledge that she was the one who had done this to him, made both her nerves and libido increase.

He pulled away, sensing her stiffen slightly, and grinned when he saw where she was looking.

"Like what you see, babe?"

She wasn't able to say anything except "Mmm..." She was tempted to roll her eyes at him, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to.

"It's all for you tonight." His voice was breathless. She was still too nervous to form words, so he leaned in, whispering in her ear as his arms snaked tightly around her waist. "If you want it." She still didn't respond, breathing heavily. "Do you?"

After a second or two that lasted an eternity, he felt her nod. He pulled away, looked directly into her face, looked to make sure he was seeing right, that she really wanted to go through with this. The confirmation was in her eyes, nervous but sparkling at him.

He nodded as well, and took one of her hands in his. "Then come with me."

She lowered herself from the pool table and followed the man in front of her as he led her to a door on the back of the wall. He opened it to reveal a dark and cold staircase, stone steps leading to an upper level. Their boots were loud, their footsteps seeming to echo off the cold, bare walls. When they reached the top there was another door waiting for them, and he pushed it open to reveal a small bedroom.

Butterflies danced in her stomach at the sight, even though she knew this was where he had been leading her. There was a full-sized bed sitting on the left end of the room, and on the right was a dresser and shelf. The shelf was completely cluttered, overflowing with all sorts of objects, but in the dark she couldn't make any of them out. There was a window across from the entryway. Beyond it she could see the tall buildings of the city, still lit up, and in the dark sky the moon was full. Moonlight was the only source of illumination, and it filtered in, casting an eerie white glow on the bed and half of the dresser, leaving the other half and the shelf in shadow.

Her eyes were drawn to the bed, and she felt like she was in a daze as he led her to it, almost like she was having an out of body experience. She didn't feel like herself. His hands lightly on her waist, he sat her down on it, slipping out of his boots, and he leaned forward and kissed her again as he did so. She felt the coolness of the moonlight filtering in on them, the softness of the bed she was sitting on, and the combination of these things with his kiss made her heart swell to a level she hadn't thought possible. He was intoxicating her and she knew it, but before she could ponder this he pulled away.

"One second, babe." His breath was hot against her lips as he whispered against her, and suddenly his warmth was gone as he pulled away, bare feet making the floorboards creak as he walked to the other end of the room. She watched him curiously, running a hand over the smooth covers. The top drawer of his dresser creaked open and he rummaged around inside, and when she heard a bag crinkling she realized suddenly he must have been getting protection. She felt relieved he had remembered - she hadn't even thought of it. Everything about this was so foreign to her.

While she was waiting she undid her boots, sliding them off of her legs to rest on the floor. She brought her legs up against the bed, wanting to feel the silky smoothness on the soles of her feet. Her slender legs and feet looked creamy and paler than normal in the light of the moon, shadows from the window cast upon them. It was a strangely relaxing sight. She realized suddenly she still had her fingerless gloves on, and she removed those as well, tossing them onto the nearby nightstand so she could feel everything fully, and by the time she had done that he had returned.

A small, square package was in his left hand, and he placed it on the nightstand. He slid onto the bed with her, in front of her, but her eyes were frozen on the condom. Because seeing it suddenly made her realize, for the first time, the true impact of what they were going to do.

They were really going to do this. She was going to lose her virginity. She was going to let Dante have sex with her.

Her pulse began pounding at the thought. This wasn't a stupid dream or fantasy anymore. This was real. This was going to be strange, and awkward, and uncomfortable, and maybe painful, and she had no _clue _what the hell she was doing. _Why_? Why had she let him talk her into this?

"Lady?"

She turned back to look at him, his voice interrupting her sudden panic. Her eyes widened in surprise and her nerves only increased when she saw that he had slid out of his pants, the leather material laying limply in his hand as he let them fall to the floor. The underwear he had on was tight and black, clinging to his body and leaving even less to the imagination.

His pants had become unbearably tight, and it was a relief to be rid of them. He felt amused as her eyes stayed glued to his manly goods, but it was short-lived because he was worried she was beginning to have second thoughts, realizing the reality of the situation.

He refused to let her back down after getting so close, closer than he could have ever imagined she'd let him get. Not only would it be pure torture on his end, but she needed this, too. She needed to learn that it was okay to let the barriers down once in a while, to give in to your desires. To let yourself be vulnerable. He was letting himself be vulnerable, as well, vulnerable to her scorn and rejection, to having his heart broken. It was a risk they both had to take.

He eased closer to her on the bed, his strong legs and torso pale in the moonlight. As he edged closer to her, she brought her eyes back up to his. The light fell across her face, emphasizing the different colors in her eyes, the scar on the bridge of her nose. He saw the nerves in her eyes, the fear, and realized this was another one of those rare moments where she wasn't holding back, where she was letting him see what was really inside of her. And right now that was fear of the unknown, at the awkwardness of their situation.

"Hey," he said softly, not really sure why he said it, and he reached a hand underneath her chin, tilting her face just a little more towards his, and he leaned forward to kiss her again. By now his kisses already seemed familiar to her, and they seemed to set her nerves at ease and make her burn hotter at the same time. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, seeking comfort. He rested his large hands on both of her shoulders, waiting for the right moment to move down lower and start undoing some buttons. Here he was in his underwear, and she was still fully clothed. Something about that seemed rather unfair. The thought actually made him grin, and he pulled away from her. To keep her occupied, he kissed the side of her neck, and her head leaned in towards his, eyes closed, as his hands reached her cleavage and began undoing buttons slowly.

He noticed her pulse pound just a little quicker against her neck, but she made no moves to stop him. He let his teeth sink gently into the skin at the bottom of her neck, near her shoulders, and she moaned softly as his hands continued down. When he reached the last few buttons, he pulled away from her. Skin peeked at him behind the slit in her now-unbuttoned shirt, teasing him, and he brought his hands up to her slender shoulders, running them down until the shirt fell away from her torso.

He inhaled slowly, taking in her beautiful form under the moonlight. Her bra was as black as her shirt, with a hint of lace running around the edges, over her cleavage. Her collarbones stood out as she breathed heavily, and her face was flushed, looking softer than he had ever seen it. This was a sign, maybe, a sign that there would be no more bullshit from this point on, that she wasn't going to hide herself from him. He wanted to take advantage of this moment, where she looked so soft, scared but willing, and without wasting any more time he ran his hands up her smooth back, finding the clasp behind her and unhooking it slowly. She closed her eyes against his chest as he did this, her heart thudding furiously, and opened them when he pulled away. The bra slipped away from her body, joining her shirt in the slowly-growing heap on the floor, and she was cold as the air caressed her exposed body, nipples hardening.

Both were silent for a moment, just breathing, Dante staring at her breasts, Lady staring at Dante. This was it. This was where the true border from playful to serious was crossed. She still couldn't believe it herself that she was allowing him to see this part of her, and when she saw the way his eyes were fixated on her chest she felt another pang of regret. She braced herself for the huge-ass grin to appear on his face, to hear him chuckle, to hear him say "Nice tits!", or something along those lines, and she knew when he did she'd start to regret this whole thing.

But he stayed silent, almost as if in a state of awe, but she still tensed as he reached for her and leaned in closer. He kissed her again before his hand touched her, but she stiffened when she felt his palm cupping one of her breasts. She didn't pull away, but she stayed frozen, not kissing him back as hard as she had been. Her nipple seemed to harden further at his touch, and he caressed her breast softly, running a thumb over the nipple. She let out a small gasp at being touched in such an intimate place, breaking the kiss. He pulled his face away, looking into her eyes, and she looked away, blushing.

He let go of the breast for a moment, letting his hands slide down until both were on her slender waist. He eased her backwards until her head was against the pillows, back laying against the smooth covers. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she attempted to take calming breaths, and as she looked up at him, he knew this would be the truly hard part for her. Allowing him to take control, to trust him completely. But she made no attempt to move, lying against the bed. He was kneeling in front of her, hands still at her waist. His fingertips trailed down until he was gripping the top of her shorts, the only clothing she still had on. He let his eyes wander over her hourglass shape, noticing all the many scars that ran over her legs, her shoulders, her stomach, even. Somehow, he thought the scars only enhanced everything. They made her look more perfect. He wouldn't have expected anything else.

"God, you are so beautiful, Lady..." he murmured, fingertips running over the skin above her shorts, and goosebumps broke out all over her body, both at his touch and what he had said. She could feel herself giving in, her heart melting at that comment, the exact opposite of how she thought he'd react. She had thought he'd be goofy, all cocky and obnoxious, like he normally was when he flirted. But this...this was a whole different version of Dante, a person who was beyond all the juvenile taunting and teasing. Someone who acted like a man instead of a horny teenage boy.

This made her feel safer, closer to him, and it made her burn warmer, her face and the skin above her breasts flushing pink. She realized he had undone her belt and was unzipping the shorts, and she didn't even mind. He slid them over her legs, and she maneuvered out of them. He slid them from her ankles and let them drop to the floor. The panties she had on were also black, and they were bikini-style, a thin strap connecting the back and the front. He had always wondered back at Temen-ni-gru what she had on under those spandex shorts, and he couldn't stop himself from grinning.

"Hey, we match now."

She smiled, too. They were both topless, their most intimate parts covered only by black fabric, and his desire was beginning to become too much to control. He had done good controlling it thus far, but now they were really getting close. He _needed _to take those panties off, see what she'd feel like clenched tightly around him, but he had to wait just a little longer.

He leaned flat across her so that their bodies touched, kissing her again. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her body to his, and she wrapped hers around his neck, pulling him closer. His amulet, which was still on, was cold against her skin, making her nipples harden against his naked torso. She had a thigh on either side of him, legs squeezing him tightly. Their tongues danced, exploring each other's mouths with a new sort of fervor. This feeling of being so close to someone, of so much of her skin touching his, was completely new to her. But his chest was so solid, his arms wrapped tightly around her, and she felt completely safe in his grasp. She brought her hips up to press against his pelvis, grinding lightly against it, and this contact made him moan into her mouth.

He pulled away quickly, hovering over her, and the amulet dangled from his neck, accidently hitting her in the nose. Both of them chuckled at this awkward interruption of what had been a near-perfect moment, and he unclasped it, taking it into his hands.

"Sorry 'bout that, babe."

He leaned over her, setting it on the nightstand, and when he returned to her he decided it was time to start exploring a little further. He took one of her breasts in his hand again, a bit experimentally, and this time she didn't tense. Taking this as a good sign, he took the other in his hand as well, focusing all his attention on them. He realized that this could very well be the last time she'd so much as let him touch her, and he wanted to taste as much of her as he could before this was over. He ran his thumbs over her nipples again, getting the sensitive skin used to his touch. He felt her legs squirming slightly beneath him, but she made no other signs of being uncomfortable. He took things a little farther, squeezing them lightly, feeling their firmness beneath the palm of his hand and pinching the nipple between his thumb and index finger. This made her squirm a little more, but at this point he was too mesmerized to notice.

Lady noticed the gleam in his eyes as he looked down at her, and his hands touched her in a way that was both possessive and loving, unnerving and comforting. It was a bit uncomfortable, having such a sensitive part of her body played with, but there was something enjoyable about it. Her eyes fluttered closed every now and then, too relaxed to be surprised that she was allowing him to do all these things to her. Five months ago the notion would have seemed absurd. But then, five months ago was five months ago. It just so happened that her eyes were closed when he brought things a step further, so she let out a small gasp of surprise when she felt his warm mouth on the top of her left breast, tongue flicking across the nipple. She gripped his shoulders tightly, digging her nails into him at the strange but arousing feeling. Her legs squirmed, feet smoothing across the sheets, as he took the nipple between his teeth and squeezed lightly.

She was moaning lightly, and he wasn't positive if it was a moan of pleasure or pain. He suspected a mix of both. He removed his teeth, caressing her other nipple with his thumb softly in a comforting gesture, and pulled his mouth away.

"You taste so good, Lady." He murmured.

And it was true; more delicious still was how the skin above those soft breasts flushed an even deeper shade of pink at this compliment. Breasts had always been Dante's favorite part of the female body, and he could have spent all day playing with hers, but he was so eager for the main event he decided to move on, a bit reluctantly. He had to make sure she'd be totally ready for him, and it seemed just playing up top wouldn't accomplish that. He'd have to stimulate a bit further down. Not that he minded; in fact, as he gave her breasts one final squeeze and began lowering his hand, he realized his heart was beating a bit thickly in anticipation. When his fingers stroked the soft fabric for the first time, he was more than a little delighted to discover how wet she was. They were slightly damp on the outside alone. Maybe she was more ready than he thought. One hand stroked her and the other smoothed across her hip, fingers toying with the strap, waiting for the right moment to finally yank them down.

Lady's heart was thudding furiously as Dante let his hands dance around the most sensitive and secret part of her body, getting ready to expose it, taking the last of her barriers away. But she was ready for it; she had finally seemed to accept the reality of what they were going to do, and she was ready. However, it still caught her off guard when he finally slipped off her last shred of clothing, snaking them down her legs and adding them to the heap on the floor. Her legs were bent, the soles of her feet flat on the covers, and she realized that her legs were trembling. She closed her eyes, too nervous at this point to feel ashamed. His hands were on her thighs, legs spread slightly apart, and she kept her eyes closed as he saw her in a way no one ever had before, waiting for him to do or say something. Her head was floating.

He kept his hands close to the insides of her thighs, easing them further apart slowly. He felt her body trembling beneath his touch and he wanted once again to assure her that he wouldn't hurt her, and in fact, had quite the opposite in store. He slid backwards on the bed until his face was level with her thigh, then proceeded to kiss the lightly shaking flesh. He kissed it lightly a few times, nipping and teasing at the delicate skin until she started squirming and moaning lightly. The noises she made made him almost desperate with longing, and he was tempted to snake a hand into his underwear and start relieving some of those desires, but he refrained. It would be all the more worth it when he finally went inside her.

"Ah...ah..."

She was making small, somewhat jagged noises, and soon he felt the heels of her feet pounding into his back. She was squirming so much she was kicking him. He wasn't even sure if she realized. He spared a glance up at her. Her hands were lightly gripping the sheets, and her eyes were closed, head thrown to one side. The sight made him grin, and he was filled with the sudden sadistic urge to torture her more. She would thank him in the end; he knew from experience that the more built-up tension there was, the better the act would be. He was almost shaking himself now with the thought of how the next few minutes were going to be, but he forced himself to be patient a little longer.

He ventured into more dangerous territory daringly, lightly nipping her labia. She gasped sharply at this, stiffening at the unexpected invasion, and when his tongue drifted out of his mouth and tasted her clit, she moaned loudly.

"AH...aaah...!"

He continued to explore her, pressing only lightly enough to tease, never to give full satisfaction. The strength of her legs increased, heels digging into him so hard Dante imagined it would have knocked the wind out of a normal man. Her excited frustration combined with the desperate, aroused noises coming from her throat were enough to make him come without even touching himself, and he decided she was more than ready, and he was so desperate for release he didn't really care at this point anyway.

He pulled away from her, licking his lips. She looked the same as before, except her hands were gripping the sheets so tightly her knuckles had turned white, and her face was even more flushed. He noticed her bangs seemed to be sticking to her forehead with sweat.

"You want me to fuck you, Lady?" He breathed.

Her eyes opened, looked into his, and they weren't friendly. "Just hurry up already, asshole." Her voice was breathless, but fierce, teeth gritted. Well, he clearly wouldn't get her to beg for it, which was too bad. But he didn't really mind; her demanding response was almost more arousing. He'd do as the lady asked; no more hesitations. He peeled off his last shred of clothing, grabbing the condom as he leaned over to toss it onto the floor.

Lady's eyes took in his naked body, and her heart started thudding again. She had never actually seen a man naked in the flesh before, and it was a bit intimidating. But before she could even ponder what this was possibly going to be like, Dante had slipped the condom on (she'd been so distracted she hadn't even realized he'd grabbed it), had quickly looked into her eyes for confirmation, and in the next second he had hugged her body to his and she felt him slowly sliding inside of her.

She was thankful he had hugged her to himself so he couldn't see her face. Her chin rested on his shoulder, and his on hers, so they could not see the other. She gritted her teeth lightly, face scrunching up. It wasn't the pain so much as the awkwardness. It felt strange, it felt too unusual and invasive, but she was so wet he slid in easily. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, and she gripped him tightly, legs clenched onto either side of him, and she was thankful he seemed to be giving her a moment to get used to him.

Dante's eyes were closed, face an expression of pure pleasure. Suddenly, he understood the appeal some men seemed to find in virgins. She was so tight against him, hugging every inch of his manhood, allowing him to feel every ridge inside her. She was so warm and wet, and when he suddenly remembered that this was _Lady, _this was _Lady _he was feeling and not just some random girl, he let a moan escape, a tingling shudder passing through him that he had never quite felt before.

"Oh God, Lady..."

He squeezed her slim but strong form tighter to his body and began steadily moving his hips, pumping inside her. He wanted to just be rough and fast, fucking until he found relief, but he remembered she had never had anyone do this to her before, and he had to be more gentle than he normally was. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. So he started off slow, moaning as her warmth caressed him, and he began to steadily increase the pace when he felt her moving against him.

Lady marveled at the noises Dante was making. They made her feel powerful, despite the fact she was on the bottom. They sounded almost helpless with longing, and all for her. She began moving slowly with him, the motion seeming to come naturally. She was still sore, but the noises he made, the feel of his strong body wrapped around hers, watching the rocking of his hips, it all made burning pleasure shock through her, stronger than anything she could have imagined.

The bed began creaking lightly as the two increased their pace, the moonlight cast down upon their entwined forms. After a moment they had parted enough to be able to look into the other's face. Both were moaning, flushed, panting, and their arms were wrapped around each other as their bodies moved together. She moaned, though she didn't say his name, but he kept repeating hers as the two rocked together in the moonlight.

She wasn't sure when the border was crossed, but the awkwardness had been replaced by pleasure as he steadily moved inside of her. He was so strong she felt powerless in his grasp, but somehow this made her feel safer and aroused her more. His lips kissed her neck and her collarbone as they moved, muttering her name softly, and she forgot about their "no strings attached" rule. She felt cared for and loved, her body tingling so much she didn't feel pain anymore, and it was undoubtedly this feeling, combined with his strength and the security she felt in his arms, that made her tension build until she was teetering dangerously on the edge.

She felt it coming. She gripped his shoulders hard, her nails digging into his skin. She ground her hips a few more times, her most sensitive areas rubbing against him, and then suddenly it happened, more powerful than anything she could have dreamed. Her eyes closed, back arched, body trembling as she cried out, face contorted into an expression of pure pleasure as her nails dug into him so hard he bled. She tightened around him as the burning shudder traveled through her body, clenching again and again. He looked down at her face, felt a rush of warmth as her body tightened still further around him, and he finally let himself go. He squeezed her tightly, having to restrain himself from squeezing tight enough to break her, and his head arched back as he moaned her name, the name he had given her. She was his, she belonged to him right now in this moment, and he belonged to her, and for the moment both were powerless, unable to do anything except shudder against each other in the moonlight, taking steady breaths.

She watched his face as he came, and he had looked almost helpless, like he was in pure ecstacy. She had never thought she'd get to see Dante like that. It felt weird. She took steadying breaths, suddenly tired from their little activity. She felt incredibly satisfied, to the point where she decided she never wanted to have sex again, and she simply stared up into his blue eyes and waited for him to do something. He was breathing hard, too, and he simply stared down at her. He seemed to be at just as much of a loss for words as she was.

Finally, after a moment, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips, a gesture that was unexpected but not unwanted. He then finally slid out of her, and then his warmth and strength were gone, the bed creaking as he got off, leaving her to lie alone as he went to throw the now-useless condom away. She looked at his body as he made his way to the other end of the room and realized during the whole incident she had forgotten that he was a demon. She had now seen every part of him, and he had all the same attributes of a normal human man - veins, hair, and flesh all over his body in all the right places. She only suddenly remembered his demonic nature when she realized there were no claw marks on his back from when she had dug her nails into him.

The thought made her feel a bit sickened. _I just lost my virginity to a demon. _She had thought of demons differently ever since meeting Dante, and she knew he wasn't like the others. But the thought still unnerved her a little, thanks to her deeply-rooted hatred of the creatures.

But it shouldn't matter; Dante WAS different, and furthermore, it had been amazing, and hadn't that been the real reason they had done this? No strings attached; it had been her who had said it, even. With this thought she felt a little guilty, like she had broken her end of the deal. She was feeling something stronger than lust. She knew, because she was too worn out for a single shred of lust to still exist in her body, but she still felt something. Leftover feelings, she imagined. The affection she felt towards him was a little frightening, and she decided this had been a bad idea. They should never do this again. It'd be for the best.

He slid back into the bed with her, letting out a content sigh. He wasted no time in scooping her into his arms, almost as a force of habit. She stiffened, having moved to the other end of the bed to give him space, not expecting him to touch her again. The contact made her nervous; she had been expecting their little friends with benefits session to be a completely one-time deal. Wouldn't it complicate things to do anything else after? She tried to shift out of his grasp, but he only tightened his hold on her, her back pressed against his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder and murmured into her ear.

"Aw, come on, Lady, you have to cuddle after sex. It's mandatory." Despite his teasing tone, she relaxed in his grasp. So this was just part of it; they weren't actually done yet. Well, she supposed he'd know better than anyone. When she thought of how many other women he had probably done this with in his life, she felt a bit pissed. She wondered what number she was on his list. Her head felt clearer now that the lust was gone and the high was fading, and the thought made her a little angry. She felt cheap suddenly. How stupid could she be to even imagine this had meant anything? She had been stupid to do this at all. He would probably never respect her again, thinking of her as just another conquest, another notch on the bedpost.

Though it was hard to remember this as he shifted so that he was on his back and suddenly cradled her in his arms, one arm underneath her back and the other under her knees. Her head ended up on his shoulder. He just held her like that for a moment, and it felt so nice she almost forgot how pissed off she was. When she remembered, she decided she had to say something, to try and break up this moment before he managed to take her heart like he had already taken her body.

"You hold all your one-night stands like this?"

Now that it was over, his voice seemed to return to the flirtatious tone she was used to, a completely different creature from the man he had been while they were having sex. He brought his face down toward hers until they were inches apart, as if he was preparing to kiss her again.

"Just the ones I really like."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because she squirmed so hard to get out of his arms he had no choice but to let her go. She rolled away from him onto the other side of the bed, facing away from him, and began edging out of the bed and shifting through the pile of clothes. He was a bit surprised, not to mention disappointed. Ever since pulling out of her he had been looking forward to holding her in his arms.

"Hey, come on, Lady, I was just kidding."

She pulled her underwear on, back still to him, and didn't say anything. The thought of her leaving him alone now was more than he could bear.

"You're gonna at least spend the night, aren't you?"

She paused, sitting on the bed, the smooth skin of her back facing him. Finally she sighed. "Yes."

He sighed, too, at the uncomfortable tension that had suddenly filled the small space of the bed. He wasn't sure why, but it seemed like the mood had done a complete reverse rather quickly. He thought everything had been going well. He groped around on the floor for his own underwear, slipping them on, and when he turned back to her she had wormed her way under the covers and had them pulled up to her chest. He slid under the covers himself, though he kept his distance from her.

All was silent for a moment, the only noises that of their breathing and the fading city life outside. Finally, he decided that this was ridiculous and spoke up.

"You're not mad, are you?"

He looked over at her. She was looking at the ceiling. There was a pause before she answered. "No."

"You sure? You seem kinda distant all of a sudden."

"I just need my space."

There was more to it, he knew. And he was beginning to feel a bit pissed himself. "You're not already regretting this, are you? Because if I recall correctly, you're the one who said 'no strings attached', not to mention you seemed just as eager as I did - "

"Dante." She turned to face him rather sharply, and she did, indeed, look pissed. "I'm_ not _mad, but if you keep interrogating me I will be soon."

He returned her sharp look, but didn't say anything as she turned away, though he was tempted to make a snarky comment about her moodiness. _Women. Goddamnit. _No matter how many he had been with or how many he met, he would never hope to understand them. Not even ones like Lady. No, _especially _ones like Lady.

Worst of all was the fact that she was starting to make him feel guilty. Maybe this had been a bad idea. If there was one thing he had learned over the years it was that there were _always _fucking strings, no matter how much you tried to keep them away. Sex inevitably brought two people closer, so if you wanted to have a one-night stand, it was usually best if you never saw the person again. He felt like he and Lady were really becoming friends, and if he had any sense left in his head he would have just stayed away from anything like this. It wouldn't take much to smash one of the eggshells their relationship was already walking on, and if anything was likely to do just that, it was sex.

But...it had been so _incredible. _

He thought of how it had felt, how she had tasted, how her face had looked when she came against him, and his anger simmered away. He turned to his side. She was completely turned away from him, the blanket pulled up to just below her shoulders. It slipped down a little, allowing him to see some of her bare back underneath her shoulder blades.

He reached a hand out and stroked the smooth skin, almost as if in an attempt to keep the peace between them. She flinched slightly in surprise, but didn't turn around or pull away. His fingers trailed down the length of her spine that wasn't underneath the blankets, and he watched as his touch gave her goosebumps. But she made no other form of response. He pulled away then, sighing, and turned onto his back, staring up at the dark ceiling as the two drifted deeper into the night.


	20. Infection

**_Chapter Twenty – Infection_**

**[XX]**

There wasn't a clock in the small bedroom, so Dante couldn't be sure exactly how much time had passed. His best guess would be about a half hour. For a half hour they had laid there in the darkened room, and he hadn't done anything more than listen to her breathing and the cars that were rushing by outside, apparently in a hurry, though to where he could only guess. Her breathing interested him much more. He listened as the pace got slower and more steady as she drifted into sleep. Her back was still facing him. She had hardly moved since they last spoke. He supposed she was a heavy sleeper, maybe one who never tossed or turned. Though he was quite sure she wasn't actually asleep yet, so he couldn't judge. He imagined her eyes were closed, and she was probably teetering on the edge of consciousness, but he didn't think she had actually plunged into the dark void of sleep quite yet.

One thing he knew for sure was that he was just as awake as when they had last spoke. He had been lying on his back for the entire duration of the half hour with his hands behind his head, thinking. Thinking a lot. Trying to figure things out, really.

He was still in a state of shock over the fact he had gotten Lady in bed. He had been attracted to her the moment he had laid eyes on her back in Temen-ni-gru, and although his feelings had gone from lust to anger to friendship, that fact had never changed. The fact that she was so fierce, so determined to be independent and not give him anything, only made him want her more. He wasn't used to women being a challenge. Most offered themselves to _him, _and if they didn't, it was never too hard to persuade them. Lady was the first woman he had met who seemed entirely un-persuadable - not just by him, by _anyone_. And yet here they were, lying almost naked in bed together. Yeah, she seemed pissed now for reasons unbeknownst to him, but that didn't change the fact that she had just given him her virginity, and along with it, the most earth-shattering orgasm he had ever had. And that was the part he was trying to figure out.

Dante had been with many women over the course of his life, but he had never come that hard before.

Ever.

There were a few logical explanations he had come up with. Maybe it was because he was more physically attracted to her than any other he had been with. Maybe it was the thrill of conquest. Maybe it was because she was the first virgin he had been with, and the way she had been so tight around him was what had done it. But the thing was, he knew it wasn't any of those things, and the reason he knew was because of the other thought that was plaguing his mind.

His attitude after they had finished was entirely different than it had ever been with any other girl before. Dante wasn't interested in relationships, romantic or otherwise. He worked best alone; it was what he was used to, and often how he found himself. He enjoyed the company of women, but usually just for the sexual aspect. Occasionally he'd stay friendly with them, like in Veronica's case, but usually if he was spending time with a girl it was for one reason and only one - he wanted to bed her. Once he finally got what he wanted, he felt accomplished, and by the next morning he didn't care if they never saw each other again. Once they made it into bed, he had gotten everything he wanted; that was the end.

The reason Lady was different was because ever since he'd been lying there, he'd gotten the distinct impression that with her, sex was just the _beginning. _

He didn't give the feeling much thought at first, letting it wash over him like a refreshing summer breeze. But it had been called more to his attention as they had been lying in silence, once he became aware of the thoughts that were overtaking his mind. After caressing her back and then leaving her be, neither had spoken a word, and in this silence his last shreds of irritation had faded away, and that was when he had started fantasizing. He felt like he and Lady were friends at this point, so it made sense that tonight wouldn't be the end of their interaction, unlike most women he slept with. But this wasn't his only reason for feeling like it was the beginning; he felt like it was the beginning because there was so many other possibilities of things they could do together. These thoughts of what they could do filled his head and made him feel calm, peaceful, and some of them positively thrilled his heart. He had smiled on and off in the darkness as the thoughts drifted through his mind sleepily.

They could hunt demons together, for one. He was still convinced they'd make a great team. He liked watching her fight, watching her skillfully dance around the battlefield, sweat clinging to her body as she expertly used her weapons. He liked the thought of seeing her pissed off at something that wasn't him. He didn't enjoy when people were pissed at _him, _but there was something amusing about when she was angry.

After the battle, they could head back to his shop on their bikes. He didn't have his motorcycle yet, but he had one in the works, and he couldn't wait to try it out. He was blowing what was left of his money on it. Once he did, they could go riding together, maybe even race or something. He was confident he could kick her ass, but she'd probably make it a pretty close match, or at least she'd damn well try.

They could go places together, just little places that he normally went to alone, like bars and diners. Well, he doubted she was much of a drinker, but they could go out to eat, anyway. He didn't mind sitting in the booths alone, but it might be nice to have someone to sit with for once. Someone to talk to and argue over who was going to pay with.

And if they were working together, maybe he could convince her to move in with him. You know, because it'd be more efficient that way, he would tell her. He thought about what living with her would be like. She'd probably bitch at him constantly and attempt to clean up his shop, and he'd probably tease her incessantly. But for some reason, the thought brought a smile to his face. He had never liked the idea of living with anyone else, but she'd be different. On those nights when his dreams were haunted by bad memories, or he was struck by negative thoughts and nostalgic sadness, it would be a relief to have her there. She could relate to him on a few levels, and it would make him feel less alone. Or when she had those nights - and surely she must have them - he could do the same for her. This thought filled his head with images of holding her, letting her cry on his shoulder, stroking her hair and whispering in her ear that it would be alright, romantic images the likes of which had never so much as crossed his lobes before.

And of course, if they were living together, they could share the same bed. Dante almost never slept in his bed - he usually fell asleep on the couch, or sometimes at his desk - but if she was living with him, that would be a whole different matter. They could have nights like tonight all the time, only afterwards, she'd actually let him hold her, and she wouldn't be angry. She'd fall asleep with her head on his chest, a peaceful expression on her face. He'd wake up with her warm body still in his arms and watch as she woke up herself, looking innocent and sleepy in the bright rays of the morning. Maybe if he was lucky she'd let him take a shower with her after. _You know, to conserve water, _he would say, winking, and she'd scoff and roll her eyes at him, but the corner of her mouth would curve up into a grin, and she'd let him in with her after all.

And then random scenes had played through his head, almost experimentally, because they were unlike any fantasies he had ever had before. He imagined kissing her in a rainstorm after a mission, holding her body close because she was cold. Leaving the city with her on his bike, her arms wrapped around him from behind, and going somewhere abandoned for the night, somewhere they could actually see the stars. Tending to her after she got badly injured while fighting demons, while she protested that she didn't _need _his help, but let him take care of her anyway. Surprising her on her birthday with some kind of gift, a shiny new firearm, maybe.

When he reached that last fantasy, lying there in the darkness, he came to the realization that, not only did he have no clue when her birthday was, but he didn't even know how old she was. He had assumed she was at least eighteen, but he didn't actually know. _Shit. Hope she's not actually like sixteen or something. _The idea that he was having all these thoughts about her - not to mention had just had sex with her - and she was still a kid made his stomach flop a little. She acted much more mature than a sixteen-year-old, not to mention she certainly didn't have the body of one, but if he wanted to continue fantasizing in peace he needed to know for sure.

He rolled over onto his side beneath the covers, facing her. She still hadn't moved, but he didn't think she was quite asleep yet. Only one way to find out.

"Lady." He whispered.

No response.

"Hey, Lady!" A bit louder now.

After a moment he heard her moan softly, in a sleepy way.

"Hey, Lady, are you asleep?"

Another pause. "Yes." She sounded pissed off. Tired and pissed off.

Well, if she could respond to his question, clearly she wasn't actually sleeping. "I was just wondering something."

"What?" It came out as a sleepy moan.

"How old are you?"

She rolled over onto her back, holding the covers over her chest, eyes glaring and tired as she looked up at him. "Eighteen. Why?"

Relief passed over him. "Oh, good. I just wanted to make sure."

Her brows knotted together. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, I just wanted to make sure you weren't underage, since...you know."

Understanding crossed her features, and she looked more than a little pissed now. "You thought I might be underage and you slept with me anyway?"

"No, I_ thought _you were eighteen, and you are, so no harm done, right?"

She closed her eyes, sighing. "You woke me up just for that?"

"You weren't actually sleeping."

"I was _almost _sleeping, and unless you have anything else to bother me with, I plan on going to sleep right now."

"No, that was it."

"Good." She resumed her previous position, turning until she faced away from him, and he laid on his back and resumed his previous thoughts as silence filled the room once again.

By now he was well aware of the strange fantasies that had been flickering through his mind in the last half hour, but he still had no answers as to why they were there, or why their little "no strings attached" session had satisfied him in a way he'd never been before. But he had a theory, and it was the only one he had because it was the only thing he could come up with that made sense. He tried to come up with other ideas, because this one was a bit scary, but nothing else made sense.

He figured he was reacting to her this way because this was the first time he'd ever had emotion involved in sex. He had heard before that it was more satisfying when it was with someone you loved, but he had always scoffed at the idea. He wasn't sure if he even believed love existed; it seemed like for every happy couple, there were two more unhappy ones, or two divorces for every marriage. The fact that his own mother had been left alone only fueled his disbelief in the concept. In all fairness, he had never learned the exact reason his father had left, but he was left to believe it was simply because he had died. His mother still spoke highly of him, after all, so he couldn't have done anything too awful. Nonetheless, all it took was a thought of how she had been slaughtered that night, how his mother had worked so hard raising him and his brother alone only to be murdered, to refuel his bitterness.

Because of this bitterness, and because he had no interest in relationships, sex had always been purely physical to him. He saw an attractive woman, his body wanted her, and if he was lucky, he got her. It was just another fun thing to do. Admittedly, another reason he enjoyed it so much was because he felt less alone after, holding whoever she was, which made some of his more negative feelings dissipate, so there _was _some sort of emotional aspect involved. But in the end, he wasn't doing it to find a connection to anyone, and he realized now that the only thing that had ever been involved in the act was his body.

But this time, he _knew _there had been more than that. He had never really had any romantic feelings for anyone before, so he had nothing to base it on, but he was quite confident the reason it had felt different with Lady was because, for the first time, his heart was involved as much as his body was.

But _why_? Why Lady? How had she managed to awaken that part of him? Clearly, it meant he had some sort of feelings for her. Well, he _did _care about her, but he had no reasons to bring these feelings past caring for her as a friend and fellow devil hunter. He didn't even know her well enough yet for it be anything beyond that. He had only met her five months ago, and over the course of those months this was only the second time he had even seen her. The idea that he could be developing feelings for her (or really, developing romantic feelings at all) was absurd. Nonetheless, he knew the feelings this night had brought into his heart did go beyond the boundaries of friendship.

He decided to stop thinking about it. He hated over-analyzing things. He decided to just go back to how he was before - relaxed, letting feelings and images wash over him without really giving them much thought. After awhile of staying in that relaxed, sleepy mindset, it seemed clear that she wasn't leaving his head. He realized then that after tonight, she would probably leave, go the long way back to wherever it was that she lived, and not visit again for a long time. Maybe another five months. Maybe forever, since he seemed to have pissed her off somehow.

The thought of her leaving after this, of not seeing her again for a long time, made him feel a deep sort of disappointment, the disappointment of wanting something you can't have, of finding out that reality coldly contradicts that way you had imagined things in your mind.

So what the hell was he just lying here for? She _was _here right now, next to him in his bed, and she wasn't going anywhere for the whole night.

He turned onto his side again, staring at her bare shoulders, the spiky black hair on the back of her head. She looked so small beneath the covers, shoulders steadily rising and falling.

He inched closer to her in the bed, resting his elbow on the pillows, his head in his hand, towering over her. The bed creaked as he moved, but she stayed still as he moved his body closer to hers. For a moment, all was still, their breathing the only sound in the room. She seemed to have tensed just a little, sensing him so close to her, but made no other response.

"Hey, Lady."

She sighed in annoyance, bringing a hand up and rubbing her eyes. _"What?" _

"Where do you live?"

"Why? Planning on stalking me?"

"Maybe."

She yawned, stretching slightly, though she still kept her back to him. "Well, I'm not giving you my address."

"What do you live in, though? Like a house, or an apartment building...?"

"What does it matter?"

"It doesn't. Just wanted to know if you were making more money than me."

"Well, it's nicer than _this _place, that's for sure."

"Hey, this place isn't so bad." Dante protested. He had become quite fond of the little run-down building.

"I didn't say it was - " She cut off, and suddenly turned to the side, looking up at him. She momentarily seemed a little surprised at just how close he had gotten to her, but she recovered quickly. "Why the hell are we talking about this? I am _trying _to _sleep, _in case you hadn't noticed."

"But you're not asleep yet."

"Because you keep BOTHERING me!"

"This is only the second time - "

"Look, unless you have anything actually important to say, could you just shut the hell up?"

He felt a bit pissed at this, and he glared. She glared back. He rolled over, resuming his previous position of laying on his back. "Fine, fine. No need to get your panties in a bunch."

She made a rather offended, growl-like noise. "Are you _trying _to piss me off?"

He looked over at her. Her hair was a bit messy from the pillow, her face flushed lightly, scrunched up at him with a glare that could kill, despite how tired it was. But it only made him grin. He chuckled.

"Well, you _are _cute when you're angry, you know."

She looked like she was going to strangle him with her bare hands, but instead she just growled again and flipped over rather violently, facing away from him. But he wasn't done with her yet. He brought a hand up and twined it with the bottom of her ebony hair, then let his fingers drift down to the brown cord wrapped around her neck. This whole time she had kept on that necklace she always wore. It reminded him a little of the amulet his mother had left him, and he had a feeling it meant something similar to her. She didn't strike him as the type to wear jewelry for the sake of wearing jewelry.

She squirmed away from his fingers, seeming to get a little extra jerky when he touched the cord of her necklace, confirming his belief that it was important to her. He brought his hand back to himself and rolled over onto his side again, his shadow falling over her. She stayed determinedly turned away from him.

"You live alone, Lady?"

There was a pause before she answered, as if she was trying to figure out exactly what he was getting at. "Who the hell would I have to live with?"

"I don't know. I don't even know _where _you live."

"Well, I don't have anyone."

"You like living alone?"

Again she paused, as if trying to figure him out. "Yeah, sure."

"Mmm." He rolled onto his back again, staring at the moonlight on the wall. "Yeah, that's what I figured. I live alone, too. It's the best thing for people like us."

She shifted slightly, as if tempted to turn and face him. "'People like us'? And what type of people would that be exactly?"

"You know..." He shrugged. "Devil hunters. Loners." He paused. "Orphans."

That last word seemed to fill the room like a heavy weight, dripping with hidden meanings and memories. There was a tense silence between them for a moment in which he wasn't sure if she even breathed, and then she turned to face him. She looked a bit surprised, but more than that she looked sad. As she turned, the covers slipped down below her breasts, and her form was bathed in the moonlight. Locks of hair were hanging in her eyes, and he brought a hand up and smoothed them away without even thinking. Her eyes were wide, glistening, and looked a bit amazed, shimmering in the soft white light. In that instant, she had lost all traces of anger. She just looked soft, sad, and somehow more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

He trailed the fingers that had brushed the hair away down the side of her face, down to her jaw. This touch came off as soft and loving, and for a moment it looked like she was going to lose her composure altogether. He was overwhelmed in that moment by the urge to kiss her and didn't think twice about giving in.

He only pressed against her softly, because she had looked so soft in that moment that anything else would have been unfitting. But at the same time there was so much passion in that kiss, all the pent-up feeling that had been building inside him in that last half hour that needed to be released. She closed her eyes, and after a moment he felt her responding to the kiss, pressing against him, her motions seeming to contain as much affection as his. He pulled away briefly, watching as her eyes slowly fluttered open at his departure, and the look in them told him that the presumed affection was genuine.

He leaned down again, but this time he took her into his arms, scooping them beneath her back and lifting her slightly. His body leaned in close enough to hers so that he could feel her breasts against his bare chest, and his heart began pounding faster, and then faster still when she brought her hands up and grasped his shoulders. They stayed like that for a minute, holding one another, kissing softly, parting only long enough to take a quick breath, both suddenly overwhelmed by affection, by a need to be with the other.

He felt light-headed, and he was sure she must, as well. The thoughts in his head weren't exactly clear, intoxicated by the moment as he was, but he distinctly remembered thinking that he was never letting her go after this, regardless of what she claimed she wanted. He was determined to make certain she wouldn't _want _to leave him. He pulled away and lingered above her for a moment, both steadily breathing onto the other, breath warm. Her eyes opened after a moment, half-lidded, and when he leaned down again this time he kissed the corner of her mouth, and then a little lower, and lower, making a trail towards her neck, not entirely sure what he was doing but determined, desperate, to increase the passion of the moment.

As soon as he reached her neck, he felt her body tense in his arms. A negative sign, and only made more negative still when she started squirming in his grasp. The muscles on her neck tensed and stretched as she turned her head away from him, and he paused, leaning up enough to look at her. The hands on his shoulders pressed against him now, pushing away. In the sudden stillness after he pulled away she felt his eyes on her, and turned her head back to face him. Their eyes met for a split second, long enough for him to see the uneasiness in them, and then she looked away, seeming a bit embarrassed. There was an awkward silence for a moment as she struggled with what to say.

"I'm tired." She offered feebly, and rolled to slide out of his arms. He let her go, more from surprise than anything else. As she resumed her previous position of being turned away from him, his numb surprise was replaced by anger.

Just what the fuck was he doing wrong? This was the second time they had been having a good moment and she broke it up. What the hell was her problem?

Well, one thing was for sure. She was in _his _bed and he wanted to hold her, so she was going to spend the night in his arms whether she wanted to or not. He inched close to her on the bed and reached his arm out, snaking it around her waist, and pulled her to him until her back was pressed firmly against his chest. She looked so small next to him, her soft and thin body a juxtaposition to his muscular form. She only just reached his shoulder when they stood side by side anyway, and lying like this, their height difference was even more obvious.

Her body was tense beneath his for a few breaths, but she didn't try to pull away. What was more, in the next moment he actually felt her body relax, and soon after that, sink into his. Finally, she wasn't protesting and allowed herself to have a positive response to him. He was tempted to kiss her bare shoulder, but he contented himself with just holding her against him. The moment felt delicate, as if even the slightest wrong move would shatter it. So he stayed still, as did she, and the only movement in the darkness was the rise and fall of their chests.

**[XX]**

An hour passed.

She was asleep now, really asleep this time, but he was still awake. He couldn't recall ever feeling less tired. She, however, was deep in unconsciousness. They had stayed in the same position as she fell asleep. There was something enjoyable about having her sleeping form in his arms. Asleep, she was completely vulnerable. Having his arm around her created a protective barrier between her and the rest of the world, and this feeling of keeping her safe was more enjoyable than he could have imagined.

He still didn't know what the hell was wrong with him. What the hell she had done to him. Who knew he'd ever actually find enjoyment in watching someone sleep? Of course, he couldn't ever tell her that, since it made him sound like a stalker. This whole thing was like a disease, but a delicious disease. She had infected him, invaded his senses and forced him to feel things he'd never really felt before. He still couldn't figure the whole thing out, so he decided once again to not think about it and simply watched her sleeping as he tried to fall asleep himself.

She didn't move much in sleep. Her body had stayed still. The only thing that moved occasionally was her head, and only slightly. She had murmured words a few times, though, but too low to be coherent, even to his advanced sense of hearing. The most interesting thing was just how peaceful and harmless she looked. Nobody would have ever guessed what she was capable of if they had looked at her in this moment.

His own eyes closed after awhile, and he may have drifted off to sleep himself if he hadn't suddenly felt her body tense under his arm. Just something in her dream, he figured, but when she started trembling he opened his eyes.

Her face didn't look peaceful anymore. She was breathing heavier, lips parted slightly, and she looked almost like she was in pain. He just held her tighter as she trembled, figuring it was just a bad part of her dream that would pass soon enough.

But then she was moaning softly - soft, sad, almost desperate noises that reminded him of a wounded animal. Her apparent nightmare only seemed to be getting worse, and he had an idea of what she was dreaming about. He wondered if he ever made similar noises during his nightmares.

But he wasn't really sure what to do - should he wake her up, or wait for it to pass? He waited a moment longer before deciding, waiting to see if it would get worse or die out. For the moment, he simply squeezed her trembling body to his, and wondered if she was dreaming about what he thought she was.


	21. Accept Defeat

**_Chapter Twenty-One: Accept Defeat_**

**[XXI]**

_She wasn't sure exactly what it was that roused her from her sleep, but she knew something wasn't right. As she stirred into consciousness, her half-asleep mind pondered many things. First she was sure she'd heard a door slam. Then she was sure it had actually been the sound of someone crying. As she crossed further into awake, she wasn't really sure if she'd heard anything at all. Something was for certain, though. Something HAD woken her up. As she blinked her eyes, rubbing a hand across them, she turned to look at the clock on the wall, lit up by a slant of silver moonlight. It was three in the morning. She had never had problems sleeping before, and she certainly wasn't one to wake up for no good reason at this sort of hour. Maybe she hadn't heard anything, but something was definitely wrong. She could feel it in her bones, thick in the air, and even though she listened intently and heard nothing in the big mansion that was her house, her nerves began to squirm, her body going on the alert._

_There was no way she'd be able to go back to sleep now. Maybe it WAS her imagination, but she had to check and make sure, if only for her own peace of mind. If this had happened a few years ago, she may have let herself go back to bed, but with the way things were right now, she always assumed the worst. _

_It was her father. She had watched his transformation over the years, watched as he slowly went from her loving daddy to a cold and distant man, a stranger, nearly. At first he just started ignoring them, seeming to phase them out of his life, and that had hurt bad enough as it was. But then, once he was home less and less, he started to get mean. She was afraid of him now, and so was her mother. Of course, he had yet to do anything really serious, like physically hurt either of them, but Mary feared it was only a matter of time. Deep in her heart, she didn't believe her father would really hurt her, or her mother, but all the same, she wanted to run away. She wanted her mother to get a divorce, to free herself of him, and the two of them could move away and be a family by themselves. Let him keep the mansion. Let him keep whatever it was he was doing these days. It broke her heart, but she didn't want to be around him anymore._

_But her mother was more optimistic than she. She still believed he was the man she had married, deep down inside him somewhere. She didn't know what had happened to him, but she was determined to find out before taking any measures as drastic as divorce. But Mary didn't share her mother's optimism. She had a feeling this was all very serious, much more serious than any of them could hope to guess. _

_So when she randomly woke up at three in the morning that night, her nerves fluttering with the sense that something was wrong, she had no choice but to get up and check. _

_She shifted under the covers, sitting up slowly. She was in her underwear; it was spring, and the nights had gotten warm. Her school uniform lay neatly on a chair near the bed, waiting for her, and she slipped out of bed now and put it on, buttoning the blouse and sliding into the skirt. Bare feet silent against the carpet, she crept towards the door of her bedroom and opened it, peeking out into the long upstairs hallway. _

_Everything seemed silent, nothing out of the ordinary. The house was huge, and it would take forever to search the whole thing, but she didn't need to do that. All she needed to do was check and make sure her mother was okay, sleeping in her parents' bedroom. Well, it was really just her bedroom now. She had been sleeping alone for quite awhile; her father was usually either gone or in an entirely different part of the house. So she crept silently down the hallway, passing door after door until she came upon the one where her mother could always be found at this time of night, sleeping peacefully, a small figure in the large, otherwise empty bed. _

_The door was slightly open when she reached it, and the second her hand touched the knob, a cold feeling passed over her, and she knew something was wrong. She pushed the door open all the way, and sure enough, the bed was empty. The covers were pulled down, but there was no one to be found inside. _

_Well, that was okay, nothing to worry about, she convinced herself. So she wasn't in the room. She had probably gotten up to go to the bathroom. But even as she searched all over the entire upper floor, she knew in her heart it wasn't true. _

_Something was wrong._

_After searching the bathrooms upstairs and finding them empty, she began to feel a small trace of panic. Well, there HAD to be a logical explanation. Maybe she had gone to the kitchen? Clinging to this thought, though every instinct in her body was screaming at her otherwise, she descended the stairs._

_"Mother?" She called out. Her voice echoed around the large and seemingly empty house. "Mom?"_

_The house was big; it was possible to be in one end and not by heard by the other. She had to search thoroughly before jumping to any conclusions. But as she went to the kitchen and found that empty, too, she knew in her heart something had happened. It was him. It had to be. Maybe she had run away? No, that was impossible. She would have never abandoned her, would never have left without telling her first. He must have done something. But what?_

_And then suddenly it seemed to hit her all at once. The basement. Their huge underground cellar that had been turned into his workshop. Or whatever it was. She didn't really know; he always locked the door. But on the rare occasion she saw him at home, he was either headed for the library or the basement. If she wanted answers, she needed to find him, and it was likely he was in one of those two places. But her mind had already concocted all kinds of sinister reasons her mother was missing, and the library didn't fit as well with her morbid fantasies._

_So she hurried through the main hall, bare feet slapping loudly against the tiles, and made her way over to the corner of the house where the cellar door lay. She realized her heart was thudding thickly in anticipation of gripping the knob and finding it locked, but when her hand did grasp the shiny surface and pulled, she was a bit surprised to discover that it pulled open easily. However, this only made her pulse pound all the more loudly in her ears. The cellar had become almost a mysterious place to her since she hadn't been down there in years, like the hidden doors in the castles in the old fairy tales. The door wasn't normally unlocked._

_She stood still a moment, just breathing, and listened. She heard nothing at first, but then faintly she made out a steady dripping noise. Surely not anything unusual for a cellar. The lack of noise was all the more disturbing, and she creaked the door open, beginning the descent into the darkness. _

_But midway down the stairs, she was able to clearly see into the middle of the room, and her breath caught in her throat._

_There was a large, red circle covering most of the floor. Strange markings were all around the circle, also in red, and everything was glowing faintly. The unfamiliar symbols seemed sinister, evil, but they weren't what knocked the wind out of her. Standing on the edge of the circle was him, and lying in the middle of the circle was her. Her black hair pooled around her head like blood, and underneath her body was real blood, staining her white nightgown, covering her chest, covering the symbols on the ground. She was completely still._

_After a moment she heard a strangled cry, and hardly realized the agonized noise had come from her own throat. She leaped down the stairs, stumbling as she ran on trembling legs that felt like rubber. She felt dizzy._

_"NO! MOTHER!"_

_She ran for the circle, for her mother who needed her help, but her frantic dash was jolted to a stop as strong arms circled around her waist, pulling her back. Her father, for the briefest second she had forgotten he was in the room. She struggled desperately in his grasp, crying out to him, her voice a jumbled stream of words._

_"NO, no, let me go, mother - "_

_She cried and yelled, struggling as he kept her arms pinned to her body, trapping her. Surely he should be helping her, why wasn't he helping her? Instead he was hissing at her, shouting at her, ordering her to keep still, to be quiet, but she hardly heard what he said. _

_But then she spotted it in his hand, glimmering in what little illumination there was in the room. A dagger glinted in his hand, one of the hands that was preventing her escape. It was saturated in crimson, the red drops dripping to the ground._

_She froze, and for a second all was silent as she remembered why he wasn't helping. _

_Him. He had done this._

_She turned in his grasp to face him, looking up into his cold and angry eyes. She realized with alarm that half of his face was covered in a scar she hadn't noticed the last time she had seen him, a scar that looked almost like a burn mark or something of that sort. It made him look menacing, less human, less like her father._

_But still...he wouldn't..._

_"You..." her voice was hoarse. "Father...you..."_

_He wouldn't have, she knew, no matter what was wrong with him lately, what he'd been doing, he still wouldn't have. He wouldn't._

_But his furious eyes told her that he did, and something inside her snapped._

_She threw herself at him then, desperate to punch and tear and claw at him, screaming profanities, sobbing, demanding to know what had happened, and he yelled back at her, holding her wrists firmly so that she couldn't harm him._

_"That's enough, Mary!" He scolded her as if he was scolding a naughty child, but his voice was filled with rage. He shook her as she tried with all of her might to throw herself at him, hurt him, voice hoarse from yelling, arms flailing like a banshee. He was finding it difficult to restrain her, and at last she managed to get a good swipe at him. Her nails dug into the flesh of his cheek, ripping the skin, clawing painfully. Her cries had never ceased._

_"You fucking bastard! I hate you! What the fuck did you do?"_

_She was sobbing during her hysteric cries and he could hardly make out what she was saying. She hardly knew herself, seeing as it felt like she was having some sort of out-of-body experience. But when she clawed him, when she actually hurt him, he lost all patience. He released her wrists only to strike her across the face with a fierce backhanded blow that sent her sprawling to the ground, breathless. She reached her arms out in time to break her fall, face stinging like crazy, but nothing compared to the pain in her heart that her father, the one who had once read her bedtime stories and tucked her in at night, had just struck her._

_Before she could even recover, she cried out as a hand painfully grasped her hair and pulled her head back, and fear overtook her senses as she felt cold metal pressed against her exposed throat. She had nowhere to look but straight up into his eyes. Blood dripped from the claw marks on his cheek where she had grabbed him. His teeth were gritted, he was breathing heavily, and he didn't look human. He looked like a monster. She wondered if he had turned into a demon._

_"You little cunt." He spat. "Do not force my hand."_

_Her jugular vein visibly throbbed as her breath came out sharp and jagged, having no choice but to kneel there as he kept the dagger pressed dangerously against her throat, head jerked back by his other hand. Her face was covered in tears, and she could do nothing except breathe. His breathing was heavy, as well, and after a moment's silence in which she found herself frozen, he spoke again, sounding a bit more calm. _

_"You are a foolish girl. You have no way of possibly understanding anything regarding this matter. Do not question me. I did what I had to do." He pulled her hair harder still, forcing her to completely expose her throat, and she let out a small cry of pain. "If you have any sense, you will stay out of my way. Do not follow me. If you do, I will kill you. Stay put like a good girl."_

_There was another silence where they were both frozen. Her eyes had widened in both horror and disbelief at the situation, her mouth open but unable to form words. Finally, the dagger left her, and he pulled away. He stood above her for a moment, testing to see if she would try to attack him, but she simply stared up at him, her knees digging into the cold floor, in too much shock to do anything except tremble. _

_Seemingly satisfied, he turned to leave. Once his back was to her, her shock was replaced by rage, a rage that was so deep and powerful she was sure her body would explode from it, and she threw herself at him, screaming._

_Quick as lightning he wheeled around, slashing the dagger across her face with unbelievable speed. She was sent sprawling backwards as burning pain shot across her nose. As she fell blood drops splashed to the ground, and she felt warm liquid trickling down her face, down her cheeks like tears, and she realized he had sliced her across the bridge of her nose. Her father had cut her face. Her father had sliced her across the face. _

_"Stay away from me, Mary!"_

_She was in too much pain and shock to do anything except grasp her nose, and when she turned, he was gone. _

_Her fingers were saturated with blood now, but she could pay no attention to that. She wanted to run after him, but more important was her mother, her mother wouldn't have much time left, she couldn't let her die - _

_She ran towards her fallen form. Her chest was still; she wasn't breathing. Blood saturated her dress, the floor, and stands of hair were covering her face. Lady cradled her head in her arms and pushed the dark locks away. She was pale and stiff, unmoving, eyes closed, and there was no doubt that the girl held a corpse._

_"Mother?" Her voice held the smallest glimmer of hope, coming out choked behind the sob in her throat. She refused to believe it. She refused. It didn't matter, she could still be saved, help just needed to arrive in time..._

_She had eventually called 911, although nothing could be done. She was in a daze. Nothing felt real. While waiting for the police, for the ambulances, she simply sat with her mother's head in her arms, cradling it. Holding it tight. Getting soaked in blood and not caring. Looking back years later, she realized that it had all been a set-up. Her father was incredibly smart; he could have easily done the ritual without getting discovered by her. Everything had been deliberate. The door being unlocked. The ritual just getting finished as she walked in. Him warning her to stay away from him, knowing damn well she'd follow. It was all part of his plan to use her in his schemes, to draw her to Temen-ni-gru, manipulate her, and use her blood. _

_But that night, of course, she hadn't been able to think of anything at all. She had held her mother and cried, cried for the death of her mother, for the death of who her father had once been, and for the death of her innocence. Something inside her changed that night. She physically felt it. That night she lost her mother, her father, and herself. Mary died that night, and as she let her agonized cries echo around the bare walls, she knew she would never be the same. _

**[XXI]**

"Lady...Lady, hey."

She could feel someone shaking her shoulder, and hear someone's voice above her ear, and her eyelids slowly fluttered open as she awoke for real. For a moment she was disoriented. She expected to find herself in her school uniform, covered in blood, in the cold basement of her old home. Instead, she was lying on a warm bed, with an even warmer body right behind her, and she wasn't wearing much clothes at all.

She blinked, waking up, letting it all come back to her. The dream...it had been so real, so vivid, but it had just been a dream. A dream that was actually a flashback, but that didn't change the fact that it was over. Her father was dead. She was named Lady now. She was currently lying in Dante's bed. However, this knowledge wasn't enough to stop the heart-wrenching despair the dream had forced on her. That was the most vivid memory of that night she had had since it happened, and it was as if she was being forced to relive all the horrible feelings it had brought all over again.

"Hey, you alright?" She didn't respond to the voice behind her. She was too absorbed in her own thoughts. His hand was warm on her shoulder. When she didn't reply, he seemed to take it as a need to explain himself further. "You were crying in your sleep."

She realized there _were _cold tears on her cheeks, glistening on the ends of her lashes. Her face warmed at this realization and she brought a hand up, feeling ashamed. She used the back of her hand to wipe the tears away. It was shaking lightly.

Dante seemed to take her movement as a sign that she was okay and let his hand drop, moving away from her a bit. She kept her back to him and clenched her eyes shut. This was the worst thing that could have possibly happened. Even worse than having sex with him. He had seen her _crying. _Apparently crying so much he felt obligated to wake her up so that it would end. That wasn't _acceptable, _that was...that was horrible. She felt shame climb on top of all the other emotions squeezing her heart. The grief, the anger, the hopelessness, all the things she had felt that night, all awakening from their dormant states of being buried deep inside of her and proceeding to pummel her soul with their fists.

All the tears were cleared away, but she could feel more threatening to spill out. She tried to be angry to make the despair go away, make the breakdown stop. She didn't approve of herself breaking down in general, but in front of someone _else_? That just wasn't allowed to happen. It was easy to be angry when she realized that this was _his _fault in the first place. _He _was the one who had been getting all depressing, talking about how they were orphans and shit. Reminding her of the night that had earned her that title to begin with. It was _his _fault the memories had risen to the surface. After all her hard work of trying to suppress them and keep them away...

"You okay, Lady?"

He interrupted the silence once again. His voice was soft, but she couldn't bring herself to face him. She didn't want him to see her red eyes, her tear-streaked face. She didn't want to talk because she was worried her voice might be trembling. So there was another tense silence before he spoke again.

"I suppose it'd be stupid to ask if you wanted to talk about it."

After a moment, she did turn around, slowly flipping over to her other side to face him. She was ready to scoff, ready to retort with "What do _you _think?", ready to possibly blame him for bringing this upon her in the first place. But then she saw his eyes, and her true motivation for turning to face him fought its way to the surface.

He had an odd, deep sort of look in his eyes. Something that seemed a bit out of place for him, but she was getting used to seeing sides of him she hadn't known existed. She couldn't exactly decipher the way he was looking at her. With love? With concern? With curiosity? Sympathy? Either way, the look on his face replaced the anger with an odd sense of comfort. But for some reason, this comforting feeling only made her throat constrict more.

She looked away, brought her hands up to cover her eyes, to try and force the oncoming tears back. Now that she was turned to face him, the silence seemed even more horrible, and she was desperate to break it.

"I'm sorry," was the phrase that finally escaped from her. It just came out without her putting much thought behind it. She wasn't entirely sure what she was apologizing for. Breaking down in front of him? Possibly interrupting his sleep? The fact that she couldn't bring herself to talk about it like he wanted her to, like she wanted to? Just sorry that that night had happened to begin with? All of the above?

"Sorry? About what?" He sounded just as confused as she felt.

She shook her head then lightly, as if to say she didn't really know, either. There wasn't anything to be sorry about but she just _felt _sorry. She could feel a sob building up in her chest but she did her best to push it down. However, she couldn't stop a fresh set of tears from leaking out of her eyes. The salty liquid rolled past her palms, down her cheeks, her arms. She lowered her head, she didn't want him to _see_, but she knew he could. This was further confirmed by the reappearance of his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey...come here."

The hand slid past her shoulder, to her back, and another hand scooped underneath the shoulder pressed against the mattress, and then his arms were around her and he was pulling her into an embrace. She wanted to pull away from him. To yell at him. To take her anger out on him. To turn away from him again, or better yet, to get the hell out, hopping on her bike and zooming away into the night.

But once his arms were completely around her, once her forehead was pressed against his chest, once she felt surrounded by his warmth, his strength, she knew what she wanted more was exactly this - to be in the arms of someone who cared about her.

She let the tears flow more freely then. He said nothing, didn't try to take her hands away from her face, simply kept his arms around her, held her. Occasionally stroked her hair, every now and then murmured something soothing into her ear, but that was all. Eventually the hands came down and her cheek pressed flat against him, her arms circling his torso, her tears falling onto his chest, holding him like she was drowning in the ocean and he was the only solid, floating thing in sight.

How long they stayed like that, neither of them knew, but not once did he let go. Not until the tears stopped and she faded back into sleep. Once she was resting peacefully, he gently maneuvered her back onto the bed, and allowed himself to follow soon after.


	22. Let Me See Your Scars

**_Chapter Twenty-Two: Let Me See Your Scars_**

**[XXII]**

The obnoxiously bright rays of the sun were what woke her. They glared at her, a burning red even through her closed lids. She hated brightness first thing in the morning (or too much brightness at any time of the day, really). Because of this, she always slept with the shades down, ensuring her sleep wouldn't be interrupted by a flood of light, like it was this morning. As she roused slowly into consciousness, she felt confused and disoriented. Had she forgotten to put the shade down? She never did that. She groaned softly and pulled the covers over her head.

The second thing that caught her off guard was when she realized she was nearly naked, with only her panties on. She never slept without some form of clothing on. It simply wasn't practical, given her line of work. She had to be ready to kick ass at a moment's notice. She could never let her guard down and be caught unprepared, not even while sleeping. If there was ever an emergency in the middle of the night, the last thing she wanted to be worrying about was covering herself up. So that was two unusual things.

But as she drifted further into awake, she was suddenly aware of just how sore she was, and it all came flooding back to her. Her heart almost skipped a beat when she realized she was actually in Dante's bed, far from home, and the reason she was so sore was because she had lost her virginity to him last night. She had woken up sore more times than she could count, but never _there. _It was an odd feeling, one that made her reflect on everything that had happened the previous night. As she did, she blushed beneath the covers, and realized how ashamed she felt. Ashamed largely in part because of how she had reacted to her nightmare. Now that she had slept and had a clearer head, she felt like she had overreacted. Well, maybe not, since just thinking of the dream, the memory, now filled her with a deep sadness. But nonetheless.

She looked beside her in the bed and realized that it was empty. She felt both relieved and disappointed. Bracing herself, she lowered the covers and began to sit up, stretching, blinking in the bright rays of the morning sun. She could see the small bedroom clearly now. The door was shut, and she was alone.

She leaned back against the headboard, rubbing her eyes. She was still taking a moment to absorb everything that had happened the previous night. It was a lot to think about. She wished it _hadn't _happened, because now things would never be the same between her and Dante again. God, how had she let it get so out of control? They had been extremely intimate with each other, and not just because they had slept together. She had cried in his arms. Not only had she shown physical weakness by giving in to her desires, but she had shown emotional weakness, which was even worse. The thought made her close her eyes, sighing, full of regret for even coming to see him in the first place.

But...it had been, for lack of a better word, incredible. He had made her feel things she wasn't aware existed. She still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she had actually lost her virginity, something she had guarded so harshly for so long, but her sore body and last night's memories assured her that it was true. One of the strangest things was how..._feminine _it made her feel. Sure, she wore skirts and form-fitting blouses, and she was more than conscious of her body bouncing around every time she fought demons. But all the same, she spent so much time in the world of men, she didn't really feel like a woman. But last night...hell, this morning still...

She had heard people say before that you don't "officially" become a woman or a man until you lose your virginity. She had always thought that was stupid; you crossed the line based on your intelligence and life experience, not the status of your sex life. She still believed that, but now she understood why that saying had come into being. She certainly _felt _like a woman now, more than she had in a long time, and she assumed Dante was feeling quite manly himself. Of course, it probably didn't phase him since he had undoubtedly done this countless times before.

The thought made her a little angry, both at herself for giving in and at him, for toying with her. She had always looked at sex in the traditional sense, that it was an act of love between two people, not something to be given away lightly. He, on the other hand, probably treated it like a game, just something fun to do. And he had convinced her to to play the game with him, and now she'd never be able to take her first time back.

But even as the thought crossed her mind she knew it was a ridiculous one. First time? Since when did she care about that shit anymore? It wasn't like she was going to actually meet someone and fall in love. She didn't have time for such things. She didn't have time for friends, let alone lovers. Sex didn't matter anymore. The only "friend" she had was Dante, and she wasn't even sure if they were really friends, or whatever the hell they were. He'd probably be the only person she ever slept with for the rest of her life, because who else was she going to meet?

With this thought, she couldn't help but ponder what a relationship with him would be like. A real one, not this confusing nonsense they had now. She didn't like the term "boyfriend", and she doubted Dante would like having a "girlfriend", but what if they were...lovers? It was a weird idea, but what she had thought was true - she didn't have anyone besides him. What if...something ended up happening between them, as weird a thought as it was? Even if either of them were the dating kind, which they weren't, they wouldn't be able to find anyone else, anyway. Who else would be willing to deal with their weirdness? Lady doubted she could find a man who'd be perfectly fine with her being a devil hunter with a tormented past, and even though Dante could easily find girls willing to sleep with him, she knew his life was too scary for any normal girl to deal with on a long-term basis.

And then suddenly, the shame and anger in her heart began fading a little, and she felt it softening as she thought of some of the other moments they had shared. It was unfair of her to keep thinking of Dante as some sex-crazed jerk whose only objective was to get her into bed. It had been a lot more than that. He was the one who kept talking to her after it was over, after all, and he had been trying to connect to her, she could tell. And the way he had kissed her after...there hadn't really been lust in that kiss. Passion, but not lust. The only word to describe the way he had held and kissed her was...loving. And then, how he had held her as she cried...

Her face warmed at the thought, and she felt her heart swooning with what she recognized as the symptoms of a crush. But calling it a "crush" wasn't nearly enough to describe the intensity. It felt like an explosion of flame. Gone were all thoughts of how mad she was at him, and suddenly she wondered where the hell he was. Why hadn't he woken up with her? She wanted him to be in the room with her, now. She wanted to feel his arms around her and have him kiss her the way he had last night. That moment had been amazing, perfect -

Perfect until they had stopped, that is. She remembered suddenly she had been the one to end their little moment, and with this thought, reality seemed to settle in a little, pushing emotion out of the way. She had stopped because she had felt her heart giving into him, and that was something she couldn't allow to happen. Her body was one thing; her heart was on a whole different playing field. She could be friends with Dante, but she couldn't let herself develop any feelings stronger than that. Not only would it needlessly complicate things, but she knew she'd end up getting hurt. No matter what he had done last night, she had no reason to believe he'd want anything serious with her. He wasn't the jerk she used to think he was, she couldn't deny that now, but he was still a no-strings-attached kinda guy, and she had no reason to believe he'd ever want anything beyond friendship with benefits. Part of her protested, claiming he had seemed much more than friendly during some of their little moments, but she pushed that part away.

So many bad things could happen if she fell for him. Not only would she be more vulnerable, but her pride wouldn't allow her to depend on someone else ever again. She had to stay strong, and staying strong meant flying solo. She would stay friends with Dante, but friends and nothing more, regardless of what had happened last night. For all she knew, it hadn't meant much to him and would be forgotten the moment she left. She couldn't risk herself because of one night of passion.

She sat up in the bed, pushing the covers away as she leaned towards the pile of clothes on the floor, shifting through them. Time to get dressed and get out. As much as she really didn't want to forget last night, as much as she felt a deep sense of loss at the very idea, she was afraid of anything else happening, afraid of falling deeper than she already had. The sooner she got out of here, the better.

She was so absorbed in all her thoughts, she missed the sound of footsteps climbing up the cold steps, and when the door was pushed open loudly as she was just reaching for her bra, she nearly jumped a foot in the air.

"Dante!" She grabbed the blankets and quickly covered her chest, shooting him a death glare. He was barefoot and shirtless, his red leather pants the only clothing he had on, and he held a pizza box in one hand and was eating a slice held in his other. He looked completely unfazed by the fact he had just walked in on her almost naked.

"'Morning, babe." He said, talking with his mouth full. He swallowed as she gritted her teeth and glared at him, and his eyes drifted down to the article of clothing in her hand. "You're not getting dressed, are you?" He sounded disappointed.

"Of _course _I am, and would it have killed you to knock first?"

"Hey, this is my house, I don't have to knock."

"But I'm getting _dressed _in here!"

He looked a bit confused. "But I've already seen you naked." He sent her a look of mock disappointment. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten the greatest night of your life!"

She growled and blushed lightly, turning away, enough anger sparking in her at his cockiness to remind her why she wanted to get the hell out so quickly. It was true, though, he had _more _than seen it all, so she lowered the covers and began getting dressed, her back to him. "You know, you don't have to act like a cocky bastard_ all _the time."

"Well, you know, you could do without the bitchiness every once in a while."

"Yeah, yeah, fuck you."

To her surprise, he chuckled. She had been steadily getting pissed, but apparently he found the whole thing amusing. His voice took on a tone of mock hurt.

"You're cold, Lady. This is the thanks I get for trying to be a nice guy and bring you breakfast?"

Having slid her shorts on, she began buttoning her shirt, turning to face him briefly. "Pizza for breakfast?" The idea was a bit disgusting.

"'Course. What else is there for breakfast?"

"Hmm, I don't know, how about cereal, or pancakes, or anything _normal _people eat?"

"Aw, come on, Lady. Look, I even got your favorite."

She paused mid-button, and turned around to find him showcasing the cardboard box and saw that, indeed, the pizza inside was covered in green peppers. She stayed frozen.

It had been five months ago that they had eaten together. _Five months ago. _She hadn't had pizza since then and had even forgotten her favorite topping herself.

How the hell had he remembered? _How?_

"When did you get that?" Her voice had softened considerably.

"This morning. Came a few minutes ago." He waved it tantalizingly in front of her. "Come on, it's still warm. You know you want to."

Well, damn, if he had gotten it with her in mind she couldn't just say no _now. _She turned away again, finishing with the last of the buttons.

"Thanks, Dante." She murmured.

He seemed to take this as his invitation and plopped onto the other side of the bed with a content sigh, placing the box in between them. "Anything for you, babe."

He said it in a light-hearted voice, but all the same, she felt her anger turning into her crush-like symptoms once again. Damnit, wasn't it bad enough that he was practically schizophrenic himself? Now he was forcing the same effect on her, causing her to switch between love and hate like a malfunctioning robot sparking on and off.

She turned back around to discover he had already started eating another piece, and reached and took one herself, pulling until the long strands of cheese snapped off from the nearby pieces. She felt her mouth starting to water. Okay, she couldn't deny that it looked good. It still seemed weird eating it for breakfast, but maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Things were silent for a moment as Dante practically inhaled his piece and Lady was careful not to make the cheese rip and hit her in the face like it had last time. When his piece was almost gone, he finally spoke.

"So, let me guess. This is the first time you've had pizza since we last met."

She turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. It was a bit eerie because he was right. "What makes you say that?"

"You seem kinda like the health nut type to me."

"Well, I'm not a health _nut, _but I know how to take care of myself, unlike you, apparently."

"Hey, if being healthy means no pizza, I want no part in it."

She couldn't help but smile lightly. It was ridiculous, really. She had never seen someone so obsessed with a certain food before. No one grown, anyway.

"Why do you like pizza so much?"

He gave her a look as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "Because it tastesgood."

"Is it the only thing you eat or something?"

He shrugged. "Pretty much. Don't really care to spend my money on much else, food-wise."

"You know, that's really bad for you."

He grinned. "Do my ears deceive me or did you just express concern for my well-being?"

"I wasn't expressing concern. I was stating a fact."

"Sure, sure, cover up your true feelings. Don't worry, though, it's gonna take a lot more than clogged arteries to kill this demon." He beat his fist against his chest, as if to show said arteries who was boss.

She couldn't hold back a laugh at his antics. "Whatever you say, Dante."

He seemed quite pleased that he had made her laugh, and when they resumed eating in silence, it didn't feel awkward, and they merely listened to cars driving by in the city below. When Lady had finished her piece, Dante was already done a third, and he belched rather loudly.

Lady rolled her eyes. "Charming."

He leaned in closer to her and put his arm around the pillows, so that it was above her shoulders but not actually touching her. She glanced over at him, noticing for the first time that his hair was damp, indicating that he had taken a shower. She realized suddenly just how good he smelled. It was more than just a clean smell, there was something else there, too, as if maybe he had lightly sprayed some kind of cologne or something. Well, whatever it was, she had to admit it was nice.

"So. How does it feel to be _officially _a lady?"

She froze, then turned to look at him with a glare. He was looking down at her, grinning playfully. Her gaze remained stony as her amusement from minutes before died.

"Do you have _any _shame?"

"Nope. Got rid of that a long time ago." As if to emphasize his point, he grabbed another piece of pizza and took a bite, letting the long strands stretch from his mouth as he pulled it away.

She rolled her eyes. "How about manners? Did you throw those out, too?"

He snorted. "And you're not the least bit rude?"

She paused for a moment. He had a point.

"At least I'm not a pervert."

He chuckled then. "No, but you slept with one, so what does that make you?"

Oh, no, he did not just go there. She felt herself flaring with indignation, but also with guilt, because it was true. She sat up, stiffening, her eyes narrowed. Her anger didn't even allow her to come up with a proper insult.

"You - you - "

"Relax, Lady." He smirked, but didn't look at her. "I woulda thought by now you'd know when I'm joking."

She did relax a little, sinking back into the pillows, but still stared at him with hard eyes. "Your jokes aren't funny."

He sighed, amusement seeming to fade. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

It seemed as though now would be an ideal time for her to make her exit, seeing as the silence had gone from comfortably relaxed to tense and awkward, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to leave. He didn't seem to be making any attempt to get up, although his muscles seemed tenser as he continued to lie there, and he brought his arm back to himself. He was staring at the pizza, but not eating it. He looked almost as though he was in thought. For a moment she just sat next to him, unsure of what to do, but finally the silence became unbearable and with a sigh that was more like a grumble she began to sit up, bed creaking as she leaned over the edge and prepared to stand. She opened her mouth to make up a feeble excuse about why she had to leave, but before she could get a word out she was interrupted by his voice behind her.

"What were you dreaming about last night, Lady?"

She froze, body going stiff again, but this time with a sort of clamminess. Oh, no, they were _not _talking about this. She could feel her face warming and her throat beginning to constrict at the mere thought of the way she had reacted in front of him the previous night. She didn't turn around, her hand gripping the edge of the mattress a bit tighter.

"I'm not talking about this." She said finally.

"You have nightmares a lot?"

Just what the hell was he getting at? "No. That was the first one I've had in a while."

He nodded, sounding much more serious all of a sudden. "So what do you do when you get 'em?"

She turned and glared at him, a bit pissed at being probed with such personal questions. "I don't _do _anything. I go back to sleep and forget about it."

"Mmm. But it's not that easy, is it?"

He wasn't looking at her, inspecting the piece of pizza in his hand like it was a rare jewel. She didn't know what to say, so he continued at her silence. "To forget the dreams, I mean. You keep trying, but they stay with you for days. Weeks, sometimes. Making you think about all kinds of shit you'd rather not think about."

She stayed frozen, with the exception of her mouth opening and closing slightly as she struggled to find words. This wasn't really about her anymore, she realized, or at least it wasn't _just _about her. The thing was, he was exactly right. He had hit the nail on the head. Clearly, he went through the same types of things that she did. Maybe not exactly the same, but his past had left scars on him, too. Sometimes she forgot that behind his cocky foolishness and joking demeanor was a serious burden and a painful history. He must know what it felt like to want to give up, to feel despair so crushing you thought it would surely destroy you...

And then she realized that he was doing it _again_. He was trying to connect to her, just like last night, when he had been asking her about living alone. He was opening a little part of himself in the hopes that she would do the same. He wanted to see her scars.

For some reason, this idea filled her with apprehension. It should have made her feel relieved, relieved that there was someone in the world who not only wanted to understand her, but _could _understand her. But instead, she suddenly felt very uncomfortable. This sort of sharing wasn't something she was used to. She didn't want to share her secrets. It would leave her feeling too exposed. Besides, she had done _more _than enough sharing with him last night. She was determined that that little breakdown was the only one he would ever see from her.

But...at the same time, she _did _long for a connection with him. She wanted to hear about his past, about his darker side, about who he _really _was behind his goofy exterior. She wanted it badly. She _craved _it.

Which was why she had to go, now. Before things started getting out of hand.

He was still silent, and she was still stuttering, attempting to find words.

"I...Dante..." She cut off, worried that if she spoke too much she would betray herself and give in to tears. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. "Dante, I'm...sorry."

She didn't need to look at his expression to know that hadn't been the answer he was expecting. "Sorry? About what?"

She was sorry about a lot of things. Sorry about his past. Sorry about his mother and brother. Sorry about the fact that he had nightmares. But most of all, sorry that she couldn't open up to him the way he wanted her to. Sorry that she couldn't tell him how she felt.

But what she heard herself saying was, "I'm sorry that...I have to go."

There was a thick tension in the air in the sudden silence after her words had been spoken, so she simply slid off the bed and didn't say anything. She walked towards the other side, near where he lay, and began to put her boots on.

"Go?" He said finally. His tone suddenly switched to light-hearted, but she could sense the dark undertones. "It's still early in the morning, babe. Where're you in a hurry to?"

"I just...should really start heading back." She sat at the end of the bed, lacing her boots up. "I wasn't planning on spending the night. I should be back already. I need to be home to intercept calls. I've probably missed some already."

She stood, boots firmly tied, and walked over to the nightstand to pick up her fingerless gloves and slipped them on.

"Calls, huh? You really that busy?"

She shrugged. "Well, it depends. Sometimes I'm more busy than others. Either way, I just...have a long way to go, so I should start heading back while it's still early."

She opened the door and clomped down the cold steps. Midway, she heard the bed creaking as Dante got off, and sure enough, he followed her down, pizza box in hand. He set the box on his desk once they were both back in the office, and she headed for the pool table, where her guns were still lying from the night before. She also noticed his shirt and vest were still lying on the floor by the table. _Ugh. He really doesn't clean this place. Would it kill him to pick his stuff up once in a while?_

She was so distracted by her slight disgust and her eagerness to strap her guns to her waist, hop on her bike, and get the hell out, that she missed his footsteps following right behind her. Suddenly, just before she reached the pool table, arms circled around her waist.

"You know..." His voice was light-hearted still, but there was almost an edge of menace to it. He pulled her tighter, her back pressed against his bare chest. "I don't really feel like letting you leave."

Her eyes narrowed. "Wha - " But then he scooped an arm beneath her knees and she was suddenly in the air, cradled against his chest, one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her shoulders, both trapping her firmly against him. Her surprise turned to anger. She attempted to squirm out of his grasp, to no avail. It should've been easy to slip past him and to the floor, but his arms were like metal restraints.

"Dante, put me down!" She demanded through gritted teeth.

To her further infuriation, he didn't even look phased by her anger and thrasing about. He pretended to ponder the request. "Nah, I don't think so." He decided, and proceeded to turn away from the pool table, where her precious guns still lay out of reach, and began towards the couch instead.

"Dante," she growled, and proceeded to grab his hands and attempt to pry them off of her. She could hardly move them. Instead, she reached up to claw or smack or do _something _painful to his face that would make him let her go, but the moment her arms began to flinch upward he caught both wrists with the hand attached to the arm that was beneath her shoulders. Damn his reflexes.

"You bastard, I will _kill _you if you don't put me down." She hissed, although her threat was rather empty considering she currently had no way of harming him. Her wrists strained, but his hand was tight against them. He was grinning to himself and actually chuckling a little. He was _amused _by the whole thing. Her head was near his bare shoulder, and she actually considered resorting to sinking her teeth into him, but by that time they had crossed the small distance to the couch, and next thing she knew she was looking up at the ceiling as he laid her down on it. He was on top of her before she could so much as attempt to sit up, and he hugged her tightly to himself, pinning her arms to her sides. Her face was flushed, both from embarrassment and from anger, and her eyes were glinting dangerously. He, on the other hand, was still grinning, but she noticed his eyes were actually quite serious. An intimidating combination. All the same, she glared up into his eyes.

"Mmm, this is more like it."

On instinct, she attempted to free herself from him, but stopped when she realized how futile that was. Her body may as well have been submerged in concrete.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" She demanded, a bit breathless from her useless escape attempts.

"I told you. I'm not done with you yet."

"I don't care if you _think _you're done with me or not - "

"Do you really want to leave that badly?"

He cut her off, and he seemed to be honestly wondering. This honesty caught her off guard, and she paused, getting the sudden feeling that if she said "yes" it would hurt him, which she didn't want to do. And the truth was, she didn't want to leave. But she couldn't tell him that...

"I _have _to leave." She said finally. "I live far from here - "

"You sure about that?"

"Um, I think I know where the hell I _live._"

"Not _that_. Do you really_ have _to leave?" She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. "Because I don't think you do, Lady."

She was silent, struggling to find words. She didn't think this was really about her trying to leave at this moment. It was about the fact she shied away from him every time he tried to bring things to a more intimate level between them. She realized how frustrating that must be for him. Hell, she was frustrating _herself. _She couldn't find any words to say.

His hold on her relaxed, though he still remained on top of her. Her arms were freed, but she still had no real chance at escape.

"So tell me something." The way he was looking into her eyes now was unnerving. It was too serious, too much like it was drilling into her soul. "Did you enjoy what we did last night?"

She felt her face warming at the question. Her eyes narrowed, as was instinct when faced with an uncomfortable situation. "I..."

"Because you seemed kinda pissed after. And then, later, when I started kissing you again..." His face had somehow drifted down toward hers, and his mouth was below her ear now. His breath was warm against her, making her shiver. He was speaking a bit slowly. "Did you like that, Lady?"

She had to struggle to keep her breath steady. She didn't say anything.

"Because you didn't seem too happy then, either."

She felt guilty now. It was true, she had turned him down twice. She hadn't let him hold her after, and she had interrupted the kiss, and both times she had wanted those things. But she had been afraid, afraid of what it might mean, afraid of how far they were letting things go...

"Dante..." she tried to think of an explanation.

He pulled away enough to look into her eyes. "So what's the deal, Lady? Why are you always in such a hurry to leave?"

There was silence again for a moment, and it was clear he wasn't going to speak until she did. She decided to reverse the question, putting the focus on him.

"Why do you want me to stay so badly?"

For the first time, he was the one who seemed to be at a loss for words. He glanced away from her, looking like he was struggling with what to say. She used his moment of being caught off guard to attempt to sit up, but when he felt her moving beneath him, it seemed to trigger him back to his senses. He propped himself up on the couch, one arm on each side of her. She froze, looking up at him a bit apprehensively.

"Because." He grinned, and the somewhat serious look in his eyes was replaced by his typical mischievous, up-to-no-good one. "It seems a shame to end such a great night with an unproductive morning, don't you think?"

She glared at him warily. If he was implying what she thought he was...

"No." She said coldly.

"Aww, come on. You can't even give me a quickie before you leave?"

Her mouth dropped open. She wasn't sure how his perverted comments still managed to catch her off guard, but somehow they did. And regardless of how much he was joking, she was not amused. He seemed to sense this by her reaction, although he didn't drop the joking demeanor.

"No? Eh, maybe next time, huh?"

"There won't _be _a next time. Last night was a _mistake_!"

She hadn't really planned what she was going to say, the words had just tumbled out of her, and as soon as they passed her lips the air between them changed. His body stiffened, his grin fading slowly, and the heat between them suddenly disappeared and was replaced by something very cold.

He pulled away from her slowly, and the sudden ice in those blue orbs was enough to send a chill down her spine.

"A mistake?" The coldness in his voice was even worse. It sounded so...un-Dante-like.

"Yes. We - we shouldn't have done it."

He leaned back from her sharply, his sudden movement making her jump despite the fact it was away from her. He sat on his knees on the opposite end of the couch, and she began to sit up slowly, a bit experimentally, as if afraid he would pin her down again.

"We shouldn't have, huh? You know, you're a real bitch, Lady. _You're _the one who came to _my _house, after all. You're the one who stopped me when I tried to end things. _You're _the one who led _me _on with all your 'no strings attached' bullshit - "

"Dante, shut UP! I'm not _blaming _you! It's both of our faults! I'm just saying we should pretend it didn't happen. We shouldn't have even - "

"And which part was a mistake, exactly? The part where you let me fuck you? Or how about when I let you cry in my arms? Or - "

"Dante, please, don't do this." She clenched her eyes shut, leaning forward, hand gripping the edge of the couch tight. He was shouting at her, and his words were piercing her to the very core. She stood up from the couch, walking away from him and back towards the pool table. His voice was so harsh. She couldn't have imagined she'd make him so angry. Back at Temen-ni-gru, she had been so fueled by hatred and her own anger that he had never really scared her. But now that they were closer, now that things were different, she found his anger to be frightening. It also caused a lump to form in her throat, a combination of guilt, hurt, and regret, and she had to forcibly hold back tears.

She reached the table, and he hadn't moved from the couch. The room was filled with a cold silence. The world blurred before her as she picked up her guns with hands that were trembling lightly, but she blinked her eyes hard, and nothing seeped out. She holstered her weapons to her body in silence, and finally she heard the old couch creak as he stood up, sighing.

"Fine. If that's the way you want it to be, Lady." She said nothing as she finished buckling her thigh holster, and once everything was secured, she turned to leave.

She stayed frozen for a moment, filled with shame and sadness, but then she finally seemed to come back to her senses and started for the door. Once her hand grasped the knob, however, she paused and turned back around. He was at his mini-fridge, and he slammed the door shut and popped open the tab of what she recognized as a beer.

Her mouth struggled to find words as he chugged it down, not facing her. It was never this hard for her to speak up. How had he done this to her?

"Dante, I...we shouldn't leave on bad terms." She said finally, sighing, and dared to start walking towards him. He turned to look at her, and at first his eyes were hard, but then they softened slowly, and looked away. He sighed.

"Yeah, you're right."

"Look..." she went back towards his desk, where she spotted a pad of paper and a pen on the cluttered surface. She picked it up and wrote down her number before handing it to him. "Here. This is where you can reach me."

At first she was afraid he'd laugh, or shove the paper away from her, but after a moment, he took it from her, nodding. She felt relieved as he tore off another piece and wrote on it before handing it to her.

"That's the number to this place. You should always be able to find me here."

She nodded. His voice had calmed down, but it still felt cold. They had felt so close, so connected, last night, but now she could feel that that tie had been severed, and there was a distance between them. It made the silence feel awkward. She was very eager to leave, but felt like things weren't finished yet.

"Look, I'm...sorry if it sounded like I was blaming you. I'm not mad, I'm just - "

"Hey, don't worry about it, Lady." He sighed, turning away from her and walking to take a seat at his desk. "Like you said. We'll just forget about it."

She nodded, offering him a small smile that she didn't really feel. She began towards the door again, folding the small piece of paper with his number and putting it into her pocket.

"So...I'll see you around then?"

He nodded. "Yeah. See you around, Lady."

His voice wasn't cold anymore, but it was still too serious, too much unlike the Dante she thought she knew. She nodded back before opening the front door and leaving the silence behind her.

The morning sun nearly blinded her, lighting up the concrete outside his shop, where her bike still sat, waiting for her. She was overwhelmed by the difference that came from being outside. The fresh air, the bright sun, and the loudness of the cars going by seemed to wake her up a little. But she still couldn't shake the dark clouds that had formed inside his office. She could still hear him yelling at her, and the cold guilt and regret was still in her bones.

_You won't admit to anything that might show signs of weakness. Even if it's something you really want._

His voice from her dream suddenly echoed in her head, and as it did a tear finally made its way down her cheek. She wiped it away the second it escaped and bit her lip to stop it from trembling. Fuck that stupid dream. Fuck _him. _Fuck _her _for coming to see him in the first place. Fuck everything for being so much more goddamn complicated than it should have been.

Holding back tears, trying to ignore the incredible pressure crushing down on her heart, she mounted her bike, revved the engine, and took off for the long journey home.

**[XXII]**

Dante sat in silence, listening to the sound of her bike engine revving, and then listening as it drifted further and further away from his building until he couldn't hear it anymore. He sipped at the beer in his hand, but he might as well have been drinking water for all the good it was doing him.

He felt broken.

He didn't know what the fuck she had done to him, or how, but she had done _something _to him. Something powerful. Every part of the previous night stood out in his mind. Except for the little parts where she seemed distant from him, it had been...amazing.

It seemed a bit surreal to think about, but he knew her body intimately now. He had seen it, felt it, tasted it, explored it. He had gotten to see her in a way no one ever had before. He had listened to her moan, seen her defenses drop as she was overwhelmed by pleasure, pleasure _he _had given her. And then he had felt himself inside of her, and it had all left him amazingly satisfied, in a way no woman ever had.

The strange feelings he had had after, the ones that had filled him as he became aware of the romantic fantasies that were floating across his mind, had stayed fresh in his heart all night, and were still there when he had woken up that morning. He had gotten to live out one of the fantasies that had run through his mind by holding her, comforting her, after she had woken up from her nightmare. She had clung to him tightly, and after she had finally fallen back asleep and he had manuevered her gently back to the pillows, his chest had been saturated with her tears. The sight of that was somehow even more intimate then when they had shared their bodies, and it had warmed his heart, made him almost feel like crying himself. He had fallen asleep holding her, and his heart had felt full in a way he couldn't recall it ever feeling before. If it had, it had been so long ago he couldn't remember it.

He had woken up before her. As he drifted into consciousness, the events of the previous night played through his mind, and he had wondered if it was all a dream, because it was too good to be true. When he opened his eyes and saw her sleeping in his bed, he had felt overjoyed that, for once, something good had actually happened in real life. She was turned to face him, and she looked amazingly soft in sleep. With her body covered, she looked like a delicate child.

Her bangs had been hanging into her eyes, and he just looked at her for a while as he woke up before reaching forward to smooth them away. He had let his hand linger around her face, touching her cheek, her nose, her lips. When he had run his rough fingers over her lips gently, she had breathed out his name.

"Dante..."

He had been startled, and wondered if she was waking up, but it was clear she was still fast asleep. In that moment, he had been struck by something, even stronger than the night before. He had felt giddy all morning, like a lovestruck puppy. It was so crazy, the whole idea of being in _love _with someone, but as he had taken a shower that morning, he had been seriously considering the possibility. His thoughts had drifted to his father.

He didn't know much about his father beyond the legends that had survived, but from what he understood, his father had been quite the playboy back in the day, in his youthful years. Not unlike his son. He was pretty sure he had been the type to sleep around without looking for commitment, just like him, the only difference being it hadn't always been with human girls. But he imagined his father had probably never planned on settling down, either. He was too busy saving humanity and fighting for justice and all that, and if he ever did have free time, he probably spent it sleeping with women, human and demon alike, that were just as loose as he was.

But...that had changed when he met Eva. Dante knew what his father had seen in her. She was beautiful, intelligent, and kind, but at the same time strong-willed, with an uncompromising sense of justice. The type of woman even the most hard-assed men would respect. And apparently, she managed to do the impossible and win the heart of the Legendary Dark Knight. Enough to make him turn from his wild ways and stay committed to her and only her. He had properly married her and given her children and everything.

And it still seemed like a crazy possibility to him, since he was young and had no plans of settling down any time soon, if ever. Still, he couldn't help but wonder...was this what his father had felt when he met his mother? Was the same thing going to happen to him? Was he falling in love?

Normally, the idea of falling in love wasn't appealing to him at all. But that morning, it had greatly appealed to him, because it made him feel happier than he could recall feeling in a long time.

He should have known it wouldn't last.

He was so angry. Angry at her. Angry with himself. Angry at himself because he felt a little responsible. He shouldn't have started talking dirty with her. He really wanted to know why she was so eager to leave, but he had been caught off guard when she switched the question over to him. He had wanted to tell her the truth, but what the hell was he supposed to say? That he thought he might be falling in love with her? She would probably either laugh at him or be scared shitless. So he had resorted to what he was good at. He was comfortable with talking dirty, but he had no clue how to deal with all this...emotional shit.

But still, if she hadn't been so eager to leave, that little moment wouldn't have happened anyway. So it was _her _fault more than it was his. That bitch. How had she managed to do this to him? It was pathetic, the way he was acting, like...like some woman or something, the way his emotions were all jumbled up. He hadn't known it was even possible to feel such passionate love and anger at the same time. He knew it was possible to love and hate someone simultaneously - it was how he felt towards his brother, and for a while, how he had felt towards his father - but not the way he was now. His infatuation with her, or whatever it was, was still alive and well. But at the same time, he was furious with her. The two feelings merged together to create one being, and it was a very strange feeling.

He was angry because she wanted to be with him as badly as he wanted to be with her, but she just had to continue to be stubborn and hold herself back. It would be one thing if his feelings were completely one-sided. But they _weren't_. The feelings of affection she gave off towards him were very strong. He could practically taste them. But he could also taste her fear, and her defiance, and these things held her back.

The night before had meant so much to him, and he didn't think she had any clue how much it hurt him by calling it a "mistake". And it left him wondering...was it just her stubbornness talking again? Or did she really regret what they did? The idea that she really _did _regret the whole experience made him feel overwhelmed with guilt.

Out of all the women in the world he could have fallen for...

He sighed, looking down at his desk as he tilted backwards in his chair. A few lonely pieces of pizza topped in green peppers stared back at him. He used his foot to slam the box closed, and then clomped forward and did something he had never done in his life - picked up the box of pizza, and threw it away.

Getting her off his mind would be the best thing to do. Though he had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy.

**[XXII]**

A short distance from the Devil May Cry office, a man stood leaning against a building casually. He smoked a cigarette, blowing out the gray fumes slowly and letting them curl towards the sky. His eyes were concealed by sunglasses to block out the bright morning light. His hair was brown, his skin was light, and he looked entirely nondescript.

He had a perfect view of the front doors from where he stood. He'd been here for a few minutes only, as long as it took to reach the end of a cigarette. He came here quite often. Occasionally in the morning. Usually at night, since that's when anything remotely interesting happened. That was when Dante actually came out and took off into the night, undoubtedly to slay some demons. He left sometimes during the day, as well, which is why he braved the sunlight to show up in the morning every now and then. But today, he had a specific reason for showing up bright and early.

He was curious.

He had been strolling through the streets last night as usual, observing from a distance, and something interesting had happened. A rather decked-out motorcycle had driven up to his building. The figure on it was clearly a young woman. As she got off the bike, she stood for a moment outside the building, looking up at the neon sign. She had stayed there for a moment or two before entering the establishment without knocking.

She had made him very, very curious.

As she stood there, he had gotten a good look at her. He noticed the multiple weapons holstered to her body, the rough fingerless gloves she wore, the huge scar on the back of her right thigh. The devil hunter Dante was known for his shameless ways with women, but this girl did not look like one of his one-night stands. There was a certain fierceness and independence about her, he could even tell from a distance. So who the hell was she?

The first possibility that had come to him seemed the most reasonable. She drove a motorcycle, looked like she often engaged in combat, and was meeting with Dante. Could she be a devil hunter, as well? Surely he would have heard of her, if she was from this part of town. _She must not be, _he figured. _She must be from away. _

She had certainly piqued his interest, so he waited for a while for her to emerge, with the intention of following her home. But minutes passed, and after a half hour, he grew bored. He left and decided to come back a few hours later. Maybe they would be done then. But a few hours later, her motorcycle was still there, and a few hours after that. So he had been wrong about her. Surely, if she was spending the night, that could only mean one thing.

But even if they had slept together, he knew she wasn't just another one of Dante's random girls. However, her actual relationship with him was unclear. Were they simply two devil hunters relieving their carnal desires with one another? Or were all the rumors he had heard about Dante false, and she was his lover? Or were they doing something different altogether, that didn't involve romance at all?

The only people he had seen enter the office were customers and occasionally that fat Italian man who served as Dante's agent. She was the first company he ever held who looked ready to kick ass at a moment's notice, much like him. The fact that she looked this way, combined with her apparent closeness to him, made her someone to keep an eye on indeed.

So he had shown up this morning, and sure enough, her bike was still there. He waited for her to emerge. He wasn't leaving until she did. He was too curious.

His timing had been very good this morning, because it wasn't long before she emerged. She looked visibly distraught, standing for a moment after she had closed the door behind her. A gloved hand reached up and smoothed across her cheek. Was she crying? He wondered what had happened, chuckling. So weak, human emotions. He could practically taste her despair from where he stood, and it was delicious.

Yes, she was definitely one to keep an eye on.

He watched as she finally mounted her bike, and as she revved the engine, he dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath the heel of his sturdy brown shoes, before walking calmly in the direction of the office, and then down the street the girl had sped down.

There was no more time for distractions. He didn't know where she lived, and he figured he may very well have a long way to go.


	23. Bloodstains

**_Chapter Twenty-Three: Bloodstains_**

**[XXIII]**

The quiet night was interrupted by the bang of gunfire and the shrieks of demons in pain. Lady maneuvered about, skillfully dodging and firing. She was breathing heavily, but was hardly thinking about the task at hand. She was so used to this by now, it had become automatic. These were just some lesser demons, anyway, not much to worry about. They had congregated at, of all places, a children's playground. There were no children at it, of course, it being the middle of the night and all, but nonetheless.

She swung herself on top of the monkey bars and stood above the demons, driving any that jumped up at her away with bullets. She couldn't help but grin, remembering how she had loved to swing from these things as a child. She could have never guessed back then that one day she'd be standing on top of them, fighting off the legions of Hell.

It wasn't long before only one demon remained, and he swung his scythe at her angrily. She back flipped to the ground as it narrowly missed her legs, sticking into the wooden frame. She landed with a thud and glanced up quickly. The demon was distracted attempting to pull his weapon out of the wood. Too perfect. She smirked, and with a quick barrage of bullets, he was reduced to nothing more than a splatter on the ground that would be gone by the time children were playing here the next morning.

The night now quiet once again, she calmly walked a few blocks down to where her client was waiting for her. An average, middle-aged man whose daughter had run back to him crying after having seen the demons while walking past the park just as nightfall was beginning to overtake the city. It was fortunate she hadn't gotten close enough for them to see her. Lady approached the man, who thanked her, and after collecting her money, she sped off towards home, ready to call it a night.

A form lurked in the shadows. He'd seen the whole thing. So he'd been right; she _was _a devil hunter. And apparently, a very _good _one at that. Interesting. Not many humans were capable of making a stand against demons. He was curious about what had driven her to choose that path.

Her client was standing in front of a dark alleyway, zipping up his wallet and fumbling with his keys. The stranger blew out a puff of smoke and approached him, cigarette held between two fingers as the fumes lazily drifted towards the sky.

"Hey."

The man looked up, surprised.

"That girl." He nodded his head briefly in the direction she had gone. "Who is she?"

"Oh, that's, uh...well, she calls herself Lady." The man answered. He shrugged. "Real mysterious gal, but she sure as hell knows how to fight. She's a, what do you call it, a 'devil hunter'."

"Devil hunter?"

"I know, it sounds crazy, but it's true. Demons really exist!"

The man smiled lightly. "You don't say."

"It's the God's-honest truth, I tell ya. I didn't believe it at first either, but I've seen it with my own two eyes! Real fortunate to have her in this city. She keeps us safe, sending them hellspawn back where they belong."

"Would you happen to know the address of this...Lady?"

"Yeah, she don't live too far from here." He proceeded to give the man Lady's contact information, before asking, "Why? You got a demon problem yourself?"

"You could say that." The stranger said slowly, and then lifted his hand.

A dark mist surrounded the two of them, but only Lady's client could see it. The stranger closed his eyes as the man suddenly began to gasp and choke. He closed his eyes and he could taste the man's memories, his feelings...his soul. Fate was on his side that night - he had gotten a soul with a troubled past. The man had been beaten by his father as a young boy, and his childhood had left lasting scars. He had a wife now, and a daughter, but his current happiness wasn't enough to override the pain of his past. The stranger breathed deeply, drinking in the man's pain and suffering like it was an elixir of life.

He drained and drained as the man gasped, his eyes bulging. His breath choked off as his worst memories played before his vision. He fell to his knees as the stranger stood above him, one hand reached out, eyes closed as he drank deeply.

And then the man was dead, falling forward in the gritty alleyway with a thump. The stranger opened his eyes slowly, satisfied, then dropped the now-useless cigarette to the ground by the corpse.

"Thanks for the information."

With that, he disappeared into the night.

**[XXIII]**

_Riiiing. Riiiiing._

The phone sounded distant at first, but then annoyingly loud as it stirred Lady into consciousness. This wasn't the first time the sound of a ringing phone had awoken her, but it never ceased to be annoying. She rolled over in bed, blinking her eyes open. They fell across her digital alarm clock - it was noon. She hadn't been out too late last night, dealing with the playground demons, but she had had a hard time falling asleep. She had had a hard time falling asleep for the past few days, as a matter of fact.

_Riiiing. _

Sighing, she forced herself out of bed and made her way to the kitchen where the phone was, rubbing her eyes. She ripped the red object off the hook roughly.

"Hello?"

"Hello, am I speaking to the one who calls herself 'Lady'? The devil hunter?"

"Yeah, that's me." She leaned a shoulder against the fridge. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I believe you can."

She yawned. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, first you can inform me if 15 Abbott Road is indeed your correct address."

She froze, standing up a bit straighter. No one ever actually came to her house, except the mailman.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to ensure I had the right place before I knocked on the door."

And then suddenly, there _was _a loud rapping on the door, and she almost jumped a little. The timing was a bit eerie. She was about to inform him to hold on a second, but realized the phone line had gone dead. She had just woken up and was hardly presentable enough to be opening the front door.

_Shit. _

Slamming the phone back onto the receiver, she quickly darted into her bedroom and ripped the closet door open. She heard him continue to knock impatiently as she slipped a skirt on over her thin shorts, and buttoned a shirt over her camisole.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." She grumbled to the incessant knocking. Running a few fingers through her hair in an attempt to smooth down the wayward strands, she made for the front door.

She opened it to see a man standing on her threshold, his fist dropping as she finally opened the door. His other hand held a cell phone. He looked about late twenties. Fair skin, neat brown hair, brown eyes. Not gorgeous, not ugly. Nice features, but average looking. Nothing exceptional in the least.

Except...his eyes seemed a bit sharp. And she could smell the scent of cigarette smoke around him. She was already pissed off at him catching her off guard, and when his eyes roamed her up and down, her irritation only increased.

"What?" She demanded.

He seemed a bit amused. "I'm sorry, it seems I've caught you at a bad - "

"I'm here now. What do you want?"

"Well then." He leaned away from the door, standing casually. "Is it true you are capable of taking out any adversary?"

"Haven't failed yet. What are you dealing with?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it's _my _problem, to be exact, but I fear soon it will be the problem of many."

She yawned, but her eyebrows raised, her interest a bit more perked. "Care to elaborate?"

"There's a city quite a ways away from here, but not too far of a distance. Elanay City. Are you familiar with it?"

Her eyebrows rose further still. Elanay City? Oh yes, she was familiar. That was the city where Temen-ni-gru had risen. Where Dante lived. Where everything had happened with him less than a week ago.

She had been planning on avoiding Dante, but now it appeared she'd be heading back there already. The cruel irony.

"Yeah, I'm familiar. You from there?"

"I'm not, but an associate of mine is. He informed me of some strange happenings in the area."

"Oh?"

"Yes. There's an old, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, and my contact has informed me that a demonic portal has been opened there."

Her eyebrows furrowed together now. Several red flags were going off. One, what sort of "contact" was this man referring to? Just who was he? Two, if something as serious as a portal to the Underworld was happening in Dante's city, wouldn't he have noticed? Three, if this man was as informed about demonic happenings as he appeared to be, wouldn't he know about Dante? Why not ask him to do the job instead?

The questions jumbled around in her head, but finally she settled with, "What sort of contact are you talking about, exactly? Someone who keeps you up to date on demonic happenings or something?"

"You could say that."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's the deal? Are you a devil hunter?"

"Me? No. I'm afraid I don't possess the skills. I'm just a well-informed citizen, that's all."

She lifted a single eyebrow, studying him critically, but he didn't seem intent on giving out any more information. She sighed. It seemed a bit suspicious, but she had no reason to believe he had any bad intentions yet, so she continued on with business.

"So. He thinks there's a portal to the Underworld opened in this warehouse. Any information about who opened it?"

"We're not sure. However, he says there's evidence that demons have been congregating there nightly. No damage has been done yet, so he thinks it's possible a plot is in the works."

"If that's the case, we're dealing with more advanced demons here."

"Is that a problem for you?"

She folded her arms, leaning against the door frame. "Of course not." She said coolly. "Has he actually seen these demons?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. He has been suspicious for some time, but last night he said he spied several very large demons inside the empty warehouse. They were conversing in some ancient demonic tongue, he couldn't understand what they were saying."

"And you didn't do anything because...?"

"I'm contacting you now, aren't I?"

She paused. It still seemed weird that they wouldn't know about Dante. Surely if they knew about the legendary son of Sparda, they would go to him before her. She was about to ask if he knew about Dante, but then closed her mouth. She could use the money. What sense would there be in handing the job away to him?

"Okay. So you want me to go down there and break up their little party?"

"Of course. Whatever their plans are, it can hardly be anything good."

"No, it can't. You gonna give me the address of this warehouse?"

He did, and then continued, "My contact suspects that the demons have been meeting every other night, so they may not be there tonight, but tomorrow they certainly should be."

Lady sighed, running a hand through her hair tiredly. "This is gonna cost, you know, making me travel all the way down there."

"Don't worry, I assure you you will be paid in full."

"I'd better be." She wasn't in a very good mood this morning, thanks to being rudely awakened by the phone and her mounting suspicion. "Is that all?"

"I believe so."

"Fine. Where can I reach you?"

He had begun walking away at this point. "Oh, don't worry. I'll find you."

Her brows furrowed again. "What?" He continued walking. "Hey! It doesn't work that way, buddy! I contact _you_, not the other way around."

He paused, turning around to face her. "I will inform my contact that you've accepted the job. I assure you, once you've completed it, he will give you your money."

"You expect me to just _trust _you?" She folded her arms. "I'm not stupid. The only way you're leaving here without giving me a way I can reach you is if you pay me up front, right now. That is, if you expect me to actually go all the way down there."

He smiled a little. "Here I was thinking anyone who became a devil hunter wasn't just in it for the money. Perhaps I was wrong."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm _not _just in it for the money, but I have to survive too, you know."

He nodded. "I assure you, all will be taken care of. But right now, I must go. If you want to get paid and stop a potential tragedy, I suggest you be in the city by tomorrow evening at the latest."

She flared with indignation at being ordered about by a client. "You - !" But she cut off, teeth grinding together. He continued to walk down the road, his form growing smaller and smaller, hands tucked into jacket pockets. There was no way in hell she was resorting to running after him, and yelling after him would be equally useless. She gripped her arms tightly, watching him go until she couldn't bear to look at him anymore.

She slammed the front door behind her, leaning against it, giving her anger a moment to subside, and thinking over what had just happened.

Should she go or not? The whole thing was weird. Something was definitely suspicious about that guy. Maybe it was all some kind of joke, and then she'd go all the way down there only to discover she had wasted her time. Maybe it was some kind of trap...but who would want to trap her? She wasn't like Dante, who was famous in the Underworld for being an enemy. One thing was for sure, though. Regardless of whether he had been lying about the threat or not, something was up. If he had been lying, then he definitely had something planned, and she needed to go down there and see what it was.

But the thought made her feel a bit uncomfortable. She had no clue what the hell she was potentially dealing with here. She could handle most demons, no matter how large, but her downfall was when she didn't know what to expect. When she went into something completely blind, unable to prepare. Something was definitely up, and she didn't know what exactly.

She knew what the smartest move would be...she just didn't want to do it.

She walked back into the kitchen with a sigh, and stared at all the many notes held by magnets to her fridge. Things like contact numbers, missions, and money information were haphazardly strewn all over the magnetic silver surface. Her eyes roamed over them and settled on a small piece of paper near the top. She felt nerves tingling inside of her just looking at the piece of paper with the phone number written in his handwriting. It had been five days since the little..."incident" had happened, and they hadn't spoken again since.

She picked the scrap of paper off the fridge and sat down at the table, sighing. She stared down at it for a while, planning what she would say in her head. It was odd...nobody had ever managed to make her this nervous before. She felt a bit sick to her stomach at the prospect of calling him, talking to him again after everything that had happened between them. But what was it exactly that she feared? She knew he would never hurt her, no matter how angry at her he got, no matter what kind of mood he was in. She was reluctant to admit it, but the fact was, she knew deep down she could trust him with her life. So what was she afraid of?

After a moment of thinking through all the potentially awkward conversations in her head, she stood and picked up the cordless phone, sitting back down with it in her hand. After staring at it for a moment, she realized she wasn't afraid of him being angry at her - she was afraid of him being cold and indifferent towards her. Why, she wasn't exactly sure, but she suspected it had something to do with the fact that, in addition to making her stomach squirm, the thought of talking to him again also made her heart beat a little bit faster, in a not entirely unpleasant way.

She stared at the phone for a good solid minute before she became disgusted with herself for being so nervous, and she finally dialed the number, taking a deep breath. Her hands felt clammy. She brought the phone up to her ear and exhaled slowly as she listened to it ring. She could hear her heart thudding.

It rang four times before someone picked it up. She was just thinking she'd have to leave a message or something when it was finally intercepted in the middle of the fifth ring, causing her heart to skip a beat.

"Devil May Cry."

He sounded tired, and she imagined she had just woken him. She pictured him sleeping on the couch and shuffling lazily towards the phone, and for some reason she felt less nervous. She grinned before she could help it.

"Let me guess: sleeping in?"

There was a pause before he responded, but then he actually chuckled. "You know me too well, Lady. " He yawned. "To what do I owe this wake-up call?"

He sounded just like before, like the flirtatious, devil-may-care Dante she was used to. Perhaps he was already over the whole thing. This familiarity set her nerves at ease, and she felt herself relax. More than that, she felt herself smiling a little. But it was time to get down to business.

"I need some information."

"Oh?"

"Has there been any strange demonic activity happening around where you live lately?"

"Uh, nothing_ too _strange. Care to get more specific?"

"It's just...I had a really weird visitor this morning. Some guy...he apparently knows someone in Elanay City, and this 'someone' informed him that a portal to the Demon World has been opened in an old, abandoned warehouse."

"Portal to the Demon World? Haven't heard about anything that serious..."

"Yeah...the thing is, this guy was totally suspicious. He was giving me a weird vibe...something didn't feel right."

"Did you get his name?"

"No, actually, I didn't. And he didn't even give me contact information. He just told me to be in Elanay City by tomorrow night, because apparently that's when the demons are congregating."

She heard him yawn, and then sigh. "Sounds sketchy. Where did you say this portal was supposed to be?" She gave him the address of the warehouse, and he continued. "Alright. I'll go check it out later. What are your plans?"

"Well...I don't know. If he wasn't lying and there really are demons there, then I have a job to do."

"Well, since I'm right here, I can just take care of any demons that show up."

She narrowed her eyes. "Uh, no, _I'm _the one who got offered the job, and the money."

"So what are you calling me for, then?"

"Because, something about this is suspicious and I don't know how much of what he said is true. I don't really know what I might be dealing with, especially if he was lying, and it's some kind of trap or something."

"So you want my help?"

She did, but she wasn't going to put it that way. "I just think two would be better than one in this case, especially since you're right there, but that doesn't mean I want you to do my job for me."

"Alright, I'll help out...but on one condition."

"What's that?"

"If this thing is for real and I help you take these demons out, I get half your pay."

She sighed. It was only fair. "Fine." She smirked suddenly. "I'm sure you could really use the money, anyway."

"You got that right. This demon has bills to pay."

A small laugh escaped her then at his playful tone, before she could help it. It was only there for a second, a beautiful, fluttering noise, and then it was gone, but in that moment she felt warm, and when he spoke again, she could've sworn there was a smile in his voice.

"How do you wanna work this out?"

She paused, planning the trip down there in her head. "I'll meet you at the warehouse at six."

"Alright, works for me."

"Good. See you then."

"Later, babe."

The phone was hung up then, and the dial tone buzzed loudly in her ear. She sat still a moment before shutting it off, realizing she didn't feel nervous at the prospect of seeing him again anymore. Strangely, the only thing she felt was warm inside.

**[XXIII]**

The trip down itself was uneventful. She took some time to pack a few things before she left, figuring she'd be there at least a few nights. By the time she was ready to go and had hopped on her bike, it was past two, and when she arrived in Elanay City, it was past four. She stopped by a hotel in the downtown area not far from Dante's building and bought a room for two nights. She was hoping this little problem would be solved by tomorrow night...if not, she could always buy more nights later.

Somehow, she didn't feel the least bit nervous in the hours preceding her meeting with Dante. She was expecting things to be awkward between them, after everything that had happened, but he had sounded so normal on the phone. Perhaps he had already put it behind him, which meant she could do the same. She let herself rest a little after arriving at the hotel, preparing herself for whatever the two of them might find that night, and sitting on the hotel bed, she didn't have anything to do except let her thoughts wander.

She felt so much relief that everything seemed to be okay between the two of them, but what she couldn't explain was why this thought also made disappointment tug at her heart. She couldn't explain it, but part of her had almost hoped things _would _be different between them now...but for the better. She certainly didn't want anything to be cold or awkward, like it had been the morning following the night they had been together...but even though she was the one who had continually stressed that what they had done was meaningless, part of her hoped she was wrong. She realized that she _did _want it to mean something, though what exactly she couldn't say, and the idea that everything was entirely back to the way it had been before, as if nothing had happened, made part of her feel disappointed.

Needless to say, this negative reaction wasn't sitting very well with her, so it wasn't long before she left the hotel to roam the city, forcing herself to focus on things other than her feelings, which were currently betraying her.

She arrived at the warehouse early. It wasn't quite six yet, but she had run out of things to do and was ready to get down to business. The building was large, rusted, and appeared to be falling apart. There were a few broken windows in the front, past which she could only see darkness. There were large double doors, but they were shut. The whole thing towered over her. The broken windows looked like eyes, and the doors like a gaping mouth, and it made her feel a bit ominous. However, she had the comforting weight of Kalina Ann on her back, and a pistol gripped tightly in her gloved hands, so she began forward to inspect the place. The grass was long, snaking up her boots, and full of weeds. Whatever this place had been used for, it certainly hadn't been for a long time.

She approached the front doors and stood still for a moment, listening. All was silent. There didn't seem to be anything suspicious going on inside, at least not from what she could hear. She grasped the metal handle on the door and pulled, but it didn't budge. She tried again with both hands, but even using all of her strength, the doors were firmly closed. She sighed.

"Great." It looked like she was going to have to wait for Dante after all, unless she could find some other way in.

She walked around the entire length of the building, searching for an alternate entrance. She came across a few more doors, but all of them were equally locked. The windows all looked too dirty and dangerous to attempt climbing through. A few were still intact, and she peeked through them. From what she could judge, the inside of the building was just as dirty and motionless as the outside. There certainly didn't _appear _to be any demonic activity...

Her whole body jumped as there was suddenly a loud clanging noise coming from the front of the building. She aimed her pistol at the spot, but relaxed when she saw that it was only Dante. It must have been past six by now - she had been inspecting the outside for a while. He stood at the front doors, rattling them. She began towards him.

As she got closer and closer, it was inevitable - her heart started thudding a bit more thickly. This was the first time they'd seen each other since that morning. Even though she hadn't felt nervous all afternoon, seeing him again in the flesh made her nerves come back. Everything played through her head - sleeping with him, crying in his arms, how horribly cold he had looked the next morning, as if he had been taken over by someone else...

But then he looked up and saw her approaching, and he didn't look like that at all. In fact, his eyes seemed to light up a little upon seeing her.

"Hey, Lady." He greeted. "What time did you get here?"

"Not long ago." She shrugged. "I was trying to find another way in, but everything's locked."

"Well, these doors won't be for long." He returned his attention to them. "Find anything interesting?"

"Nope. This place looks pretty torn apart, but there doesn't seem to be signs of any demonic activity. In fact, it doesn't look like _anything _has been here for a long time."

"Well, we'll just see what the inside looks like, won't we?"

The casual conversation and relaxed tone of his voice set her nerves at ease, and as she came to stand next to him, she felt them being replaced by something else. Hard as she tried to keep her thoughts professional, she couldn't help but think of the fact that she knew what he looked like naked. And he knew what _she _looked like. He could be picturing it now for all she knew. The thought made her face feel warm, and she was glad he wasn't looking at her. These sorts of feelings were completely foreign to her, and made her feel uncomfortable. She did her best not to think about it.

He used one arm to pull the door forward again. For a second, his arm trembled lightly with the strain, and then he groaned as the door suddenly came flying open. The chain that had been holding it closed shut had snapped, the metallic links falling with a clank to the ground. She couldn't help but secretly marvel at his strength.

"Ah, that's more like it." He pulled the rusted door all the way open as it creaked in protest, then stepped to the side. She looked over at him and he offered her a small bow with a smirk. "Ladies first."

She rolled her eyes, but walked into the old building. He followed behind her, and the door clanged shut after him.

It was dark inside, the light coming from the broken windows not enough to provide much illumination. She saw Dante draw his own pistols from the corner of her eye. The place was pretty much empty from what she could tell. There were steps leading to a balcony above them, some empty metal shelves in the center of the room, and old boxes and barrels. There was plenty of dirt and broken glass on the ground, but there didn't appear to be anything suspicious...

"You take the left side." She told Dante, and began off on the right herself. "Let me know if you find anything weird."

"Will do."

Gripping her pistol tightly, she made her way down the right side of the room. She walked slowly and kept her body on the alert, weaving through corners and crates, but she could sense there was nothing waiting for her. Her well-honed intuition usually informed her if something suspicious was present, and the air tonight was still. Motionless. Stale. Normally if there was a demon nearby, it crackled with electricity, with vibrating tension. The only thing she felt now was a slight squirm in the pit of her stomach as she wondered what exactly she had been lured here for.

Her heels made a slight clicking noise against the floor, but it was so covered in dirt and grime, it actually muffled the noise a bit. She couldn't hear Dante; somehow he managed to be silent. After looking in shelves, behind crates, and all over the filthy floor, she had wandered far enough to be in sight of Dante again. He was strolling casually, guns held limply at his side.

"I take it you didn't find anything worth mentioning." She called across to him.

"Nope. Not unless you count an old baseball some kid probably threw through the window who knows how long ago."

She sighed. "I didn't see anything weird, but I didn't really check that thoroughly..."

"Don't waste your time. There's nothing here."

She looked up, towards the balcony above them. "Maybe we should look up there."

"Nah. Like I said - there's nothing here." As if to emphasize his point, he gave his guns a quick twirl and placed them back in their holsters.

"These portals to the Demon World...they can be invisible sometimes, can't they?"

"Sure. But there's none in here. Trust me, babe. I _know _when there are demons around. I can feel it. And I can tell you for sure that there's nothing remotely suspicious of demonic activity in this whole area."

She sighed again, holstering her own pistol. She folded her arms together. "So what does that mean, then? Why would this guy tell me to come down here if there's _nothing _here?"

He shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. But I can tell you this." He took a step closer to her, and she realized he looked rather serious. She met his gaze, though she couldn't help feeling slightly intimidated under the intense stare. "I've had a bad feeling for a while now, like something was about to go wrong. I had no clue what it was, but now I'm starting to feel like this might have something to do with it."

She shuddered slightly at his words. They were so foreboding, a contrast to his joking demeanor from before. "Okay, so maybe the guy wants me to show up tomorrow night for some kind of trap. But why? What's the point?"

"Who knows. Hell, you've killed a lot of demons by now." He grinned. "Maybe you're a celebrity in the Underworld now, too."

She rolled her eyes. "You mean on Wanted posters."

"Hey, fame is fame."

She offered him a small, tired smile then, and he returned it, but only for a second before looking away, as if he wasn't able to hold her gaze. Her face drifted back into neutral.

"So what do you think I should do, then?"

"I'd say go ahead and show up, because clearly _something's _gonna go down. I'll come along for the ride, too."

"You don't have to come." Although she was weirded out by the whole situation, finding the warehouse so lifeless had decreased the sense of threat enough for her to be confident that she didn't really need Dante's help.

He, however, scoffed. "You really think I'm gonna let you walk into this by yourself?"

Normally, comments like that would make her feel indignant, but there was nothing demeaning about the way he spoke. Rather, his voice was full of concern, and instead of her usual defiance she found herself feeling a deep sort of warmth inside. The feeling of knowing someone cares about you, she realized.

"Fine." She managed to say quietly, keeping the warmth hidden. Dante had begun towards the door, and she followed. "Same time, same place tomorrow night, then?"

"Sounds like a plan."

It was silent for a moment before her pride allowed her to say, "Thanks for checking this out with me."

He grinned. "Hey, that's what I'm here for."

They had reached the doors, and as he said this he pushed one open, lighting up his smile and eyes with moonlight. She felt the warmth in her heart deepen, and she looked away, pushing open the other door.

Once they were back out in the long grass, he spoke again. "Where are you staying?"

"I booked a hotel downtown."

"Seems like a waste of money."

She furrowed her brows at him, but he was looking straight ahead as they walked. "What exactly do you propose, then?"

"Well, crashing at my place is always free."

She felt the warmth in her get replaced by stiff, icy nerves suddenly. _Shit, Dante, don't do this, don't ruin this..._

She looked away from him, also staring straight ahead. Her throat suddenly felt a bit constricted as she debated whether to skirt around the question or be more direct. "I don't...think that's a good idea." She finally managed. Her voice sounded smaller than normal.

He still wasn't looking at her, and she could suddenly feel a rather smothering tension in the air between them. She closed her eyes for a few seconds. Crap, crap, she did _not _want something like this happening again...

"I meant you could use the room upstairs." He said finally. "I always sleep on the couch, anyway."

He was glancing at her now, she could feel it, but still she looked straight ahead. They had reached the road by now. Time to part ways.

"Thanks, but...I already paid for the room."

He shrugged. "Fine. Suit yourself. Door's always open, though."

Without so much as a glance, he headed off in the opposite direction of where she needed to go. She stood still for a moment, watching his long red trench coat flutter as he disappeared into the darkened streets.

She felt an odd montage of dark feelings. First guilt, over both rejecting his offer and not explaining more, then anger, at him for making her feel guilty and ruining the smooth sailing, and finally that disappointment again. It was back and colder than ever. This time it was there because things seemed to have been going so well, so smoothly, and now they seemed to have gone back to some of the awkwardness, some of the uncomfortable, unfriendly tension from before. Even if it was lighter than last time, it was still there, and that was the note they had left on.

She sighed. Now she was going to feel this way the rest of the night...and things had been going well. It was like when she got hurt during a fight, and her blood soaked through one of her blouses...the wound would heal in time, but the blood never really came out of the shirts. The bloodstains were always there to remind her of her failures, her pain. What they had done, what they had rushed into together, had deepened the bond between them, but this deepness was a wound, and even if it had started healing over, the bloodstains were still there to remind them it had happened. It had left marks on both of them.

So she did what she always tried to do when pesky emotions got in her way - hardened herself as much as possible. She began back towards the hotel, focusing on the weight of the launcher on her back, on the sound of her heels against the pavement, so she wouldn't have to focus on other things. She had a feeling it was a futile effort, but that never stopped her from trying.


	24. Stabbed in the Back

**A/N: **GAAH. Another shamefully long time between updates. I apologize once again. I hope you enjoy this chapter...it reveals a lot about the mysterious guy (who, by the way, is an OC, not a character from the games, if that wasn't apparent). This is a Lady-centric chapter, but the next will switch back to Dante. THANK YOU again to everyone who's been reviewing, or adding the story to their alerts or favorites. I appreciate it so much and I'm really sorry I'm not more consistent in updating my chapters. I love you. No really, I do.

* * *

**_Chapter Twenty-Four: Stabbed in the Back_**

**[XXIV]**

She felt rather empty when she woke the next day. It was a strange, dry sort of feeling. Not bad, not good, just not really anything. It was odd for her to feel this way. Usually her emotions were passionate, whether they were anger or sadness or even happiness, although that one seemed to be rarest. She supposed all her hard work trying to push the feelings from yesterday out of her head had paid off.

The day itself felt just as empty. She spoke to no one. It killed her to stay cooped up in the hotel room with nothing to do except watch TV - something she never did - so she spent the day roaming the city by foot. She could have ridden her bike, but walking made her feel less lazy, more productive. It was good exercise, and it killed more time. There wasn't a whole lot to see. There was still quite a bit of leftover damage from Temen-ni-gru, but the city was surprisingly intact. She hadn't actually walked through it since then, so it was like exploring an entirely different place. She passed offices, apartment complexes, diners, clothing boutiques, and a surprising number of strip clubs and adult toy stores. _Perfect city for Dante, _she couldn't help but think as she looked up at a dim wire outline of a nude woman mounted above a shop, one that was undoubtedly lit up in neon during the night. The thought of him hanging out in strip clubs made her feel more bitter than she wanted to admit.

The only place she found remotely interesting was an ammunition store. She spent awhile there, but was ultimately bored. She wondered what Dante was up to, and considered calling him, but decided against it. Her eagerness to get on with the damn mission led her to arrive at the warehouse early. She ate alone at a diner, as she often did, stopped back at the hotel to fully arm herself, and arrived at the warehouse with plenty of time to spare.

She would've been lying if she said she wasn't a bit anxious about what the night held. She got the distinct impression some sort of trap was waiting for her, and she didn't like not knowing what to expect. Because of this, although the door was unlocked from the night before, she fully planned on waiting outside until Dante showed up.

However, once she arrived, she changed her mind. She could already sense that something was different. The air felt less stale, less motionless, and it wasn't just because a light breeze was whispering through the dark night. She realized as she drew closer that things seemed different because the old building wasn't as dark as the night before. It almost seemed to be...faintly glowing. Only faintly, but nonetheless. And as she got closer still, she saw that it was glowing with a reddish tinge, peeking out the windows and the tiny crack below the doors. She felt her stomach plummet slightly. Red was not a good color. Red was the color of demonic portals, of dark magic and spells.

Whether it was a trap for her or not, something _was _definitely happening inside, and she wasn't about to stand around ignoring it, whether Dante was there or not.

She grasped the handle of the front door and pulled. It was unlocked from the night before, but the door was old and heavy, and took some strength to pull open. Once there was a big enough space for her to slip through, she did so, and as the door closed behind her, she felt her eyes widen.

Things were indeed different. There was an empty area of the floor upon first coming in, one that wasn't covered in boxes or shelves, but tonight it wasn't just covered in grime. There was a glowing red circle on the ground, complete with mysterious-looking symbols and a hole in the center glowing extra bright. Lady felt her hands grow slightly clammy beneath her gloves as the sight reminded her of that night so long ago now, the night she had seen her mother's corpse on a circle just like this. But this one was different. This one appeared to be an actual portal to the Underworld.

She unholstered two pistols and gripped them both tightly, tensing in anticipation. So somebody _had _opened one, after all. Either the guy hadn't been lying, or this was part of the trap. Either way, she was ready for a fight.

Soon enough, the portal lit up to a blinding degree, and when it simmered back down, a large demon was waiting in front of her. She had dealt with this type before, but rarely. It walked on all fours, like a great lumbering beast, except it was covered in scales, had claws as thick as railroad spikes, and a gaping mouth of teeth just as big. It was the kind of beast that you had very little chance of surviving if a got a hold of you, but the advantage was that it wasn't smart. That was the reason it was something she had rarely seen - these sorts of creatures weren't intelligent enough to transport themselves to the Human World on their own. Something had summoned it.

The beast spotted her immediately and lunged with a roar. She dodged just in time to narrowly avoid a claw in her face. It instead scratched the metal door, nails dragging down with an ear-piercing screech. She wasted no time in unloading a barrage of bullets into the thing's back, but it hardly seemed phased. It grunted as it unhooked its claws from the metal, giving Lady just enough time to holster her apparently useless pistols and get a firm grip on Kalina Ann. Before she could fire a missile at it, its head snapped in her direction, soulless red eyes glowing at her.

It lunged, but she darted out of the way in time. She was about to pull the trigger of the missile launcher, but found herself having to continue moving just to avoid contact with the beast. It was big and stupid, but damn if it wasn't fast. Its red eyes were apparently very sharp, and she realized what she needed to do before she could progress any further.

She stood near one of the metal shelves, waiting, her breathing already steadily increasing. Sure enough, the beast came for her. She ducked out of the way to avoid its claws, and they once again imbedded into the metal surface with a screech. Wasting no time, she quickly stood and proceeded to gouge out the nearest eyeball with the tip of Kalina Ann's blade. It roared in pain as blood dripped down the sharp metal surface, and when she ripped it away, it stumbled around, shaking its head back and forth with the pain. She used the distraction to fire a missile at it.

Once it was considerably weakened, it wasn't long before she had fired enough missiles to kill the thing for good. She was covered in a thin layer of sweat, however, and breathing a bit heavily, but before she could catch her breath, the portal once again lit up, and another beast climbed through.

"Great..." Lady muttered, but at least she had a strategy now. Once the creature was blinded, it was easier to handle, but getting close enough to stab it in the eyes was risky business. She had to use all of her reflexes and agility to avoid getting mutilated with the enormous claws. She was _almost_ a little afraid - at least, as close to being afraid as she had been in a fight in a long time. But the fear manifested itself as adrenaline, and it kept her strong. Nonetheless, by the time the second beast was nothing more than a disappearing puddle of blood on the ground, she was none too happy. She wiped an arm across her forehead, breathing heavily, launcher still in her grip. She could already tell her arm muscles would be sore tomorrow morning. When the portal lit up again, she groaned out loud.

This time, not one, but _two _beasts crawled out. Her eyes widened, but then her brows slanted with anger.

_Shit, when does it end? Dante better get his ass over here soon..._

She used the setting to her advantage this time, climbing up shelves and attacking from above. She could never stay in one place very long, though, seeing as when she climbed on a shelf, the demons proceeded to attempt to climb up themselves or knock it over. This, combined with the explosions from the grenades she resorted to throwing, left a lot of destruction. When the struggle was finally over, when both demons were dead, all kinds of things were toppled over, there were craters in the ground from explosions, and blood splattered everywhere, including on a very pissed off and exhausted Lady. Her chest was on fire, burning with her strained breathing, but she refused to relax, keeping her eyes on the portal.

However, to her surprise - and relief - the glowing center of the circle seemed to be growing dim instead of lighting up. Indeed, it _was _growing dim, and soon it was gone altogether, though the red outline still remained. She didn't dare to let go of Kalina Ann, but she let her body relax slightly. She began walking slowly towards the red outline to inspect it and to ensure nothing else was about to come out of it. Although she didn't see how anything could - it was dark now. She was approaching the portal when suddenly she heard a noise from above her head, a noise that echoed throughout the building and made her stop cold.

Slow, steady clapping.

For a moment she felt as if her veins had turned to ice as she was forcefully reminded of that time back in Temen-ni-gru, when she had been in the basement with Dante and Vergil. She wheeled towards the direction of the sound, aiming her launcher, and she half-expected to see a hideous purple clown with eyes that matched her own. However, her fear was replaced by anger when she saw none other than her client emerging from the shadows on the balcony above her, clapping slowly. He was smiling in a pleasant way, looking down at her.

"You!" Her grip tightened against the weapon pointed at him.

"Bravo," he congratulated her. "I must say, you didn't disappoint me at all. You are just as good as they say you are."

"Shut up!" She brought her finger down to the trigger. "Tell me what the hell is going on, _right now_, or I'll blow your fucking brains out."

He chuckled a little then, leaning on the railing at the edge of the balcony. "I have a feeling you know pulling that trigger won't do much good."

She breathed steadily for a moment, her heart rate still calming down from the fight. "You're a demon." She stated finally.

"You are a clever one, aren't you?"

She ground her teeth together, snarling at him as she thrust the launcher forward threateningly. "Shut up. Tell me who you are!"

He smiled at her once again. "Don't worry. You will know soon enough."

She was about to tell him to stop talking in riddles, when the oddest sensation suddenly overcame her. It was similar to the floating, disorienting feeling a person can often get after standing up too quickly. She couldn't describe the exact moment when it happened, but all of a sudden, she couldn't see. There was a light ringing in her ears, and she felt like she was floating. Within seconds, she completely forgot where she was, what she was doing, what was happening. Her head was floating, her _mind _was floating, her limbs were tingling but they couldn't move, she couldn't speak, couldn't see. Everything was gone. Everything was nothing. Nothing was nothing. Nothing but floating and emptiness, and then there was suddenly something smacking her, hard, painfully, on the back of the head, and then there was blackness.

**[XXIV]**

The first thing she realized upon returning to consciousness was that her head was throbbing. It hurt. It was throbbing so much, in fact, she was convinced that was what had woken her. She was completely disoriented. She didn't know where she was, or what had happened, but she could sense that she wasn't at home. She realized she was covered in sweat, and her muscles were sore. It seemed that she was still armed, because she could feel something solid pressing into her back, but as she woke further, she realized something was wrong. She was standing somehow, leaning against something. And it certainly wasn't her launcher - the cold, solid surface reached all the way from her heels to her head and beyond. And that's when she realized there was something above her head - her arms. Her arms were reaching above her head. And there was something around her wrists, which were on top of each other. She tried bringing them forward only to wince as something sharp cut into the delicate flesh. It didn't take long for her to realize they were bound above her head, and when she came to this realization, she finally opened her eyes.

She was in the warehouse still. There was nothing of interest in front of her, but when she looked down, she saw that all her weapons had been removed. There was her skirt, her boots, but her holsters, her guns, they were all gone. At this realization a brief panic overtook her and she looked all over the ground, her neck stretching as far as it could go. She spotted Kalina Ann lying on the ground not too far away, and near it, her other guns. All lying in a pile on the ground.

She jumped as she suddenly heard the cocking of a gun from not far behind her. She turned her head to face the sound and everything came rushing back as she saw her client walking from behind her, behind the pole she was currently stuck to. Confusion and fear were replaced by anger when she saw that he held one of her pistols in his hands, and was examining it. He glanced up at her, noticing that she was awake.

"Nice model." He complimented.

"Put that down!"

He paused, standing in front of but a bit away from her now. He was lightly smiling, which Lady found infuriating.

"Don't worry, I assure you I have no plans of shooting you."

"I don't care. That's mine. Don't touch it."

He chuckled then. "It's a bit late to be making demands, don't you think?"

She assumed he was referring to the fact that her wrists were held by, she suddenly realized, a chain, and rather painfully. It was wrapped tightly around them, making it impossible to slide them out. She could already feel a wound where it had cut into the flesh, and the more she tried to move them, the more moist the wound felt. For the moment she remained still, not eager to have blood dripping down her arms.

"You bastard." Her voice was calmer now, but breathless, dangerous. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't fuck around. You hit me with something!"

"I did nothing of the sort. You fainted on your own. If you felt anything hitting you, I assume it was the floor."

"That's crap. Why the hell would I faint?"

"Alright, I admit I am the _reason_ you fainted, but it wasn't because I hit you with anything, or even touched you at all." There was a wooden crate on the ground near where he stood, and he took a seat on it now, casually. "I just showed you my real face."

The ominous words made her feel a bit icy for a moment. His _real face_? She assumed he meant his demonic form, but why would that make her faint? As if he could read her thoughts, he answered, "No human can stand to look at my true form. Many demons can't, in fact. You are fortunate I only exposed you to it long enough to make you lose consciousness."

She didn't remember seeing anything horrifying, but for a moment she wasn't sure what to say, thinking over what he just said, trying to find the truth in it, the meaning behind it. Finally she said, "Why didn't you kill me?"

"Well that's obvious, isn't it?" He still sounded casual, borderline charming. "I want to talk to you, and I can't do that very well if you're dead."

"Talk to me." She repeated, voice calm but eyes deadly. "You set me up, attack me with beasts from Hell, knock me out, steal my weapons, chain me to a fucking_ pole_, and you want to _talk_?"

"Yes, I do."

She sighed. "Okay. Fine. Let's start with why you set me up. How do you even _know _me?"

"Well, in honesty, I didn't come here looking for you." He leaned back, bringing a foot up to rest on the opposite knee. "In fact, I wouldn't know you exist if you didn't associate with the demon hunter Dante."

Her eyes narrowed. "What does Dante have to do with this?"

"Well, he was the real reason I came here."

"And by 'here', you mean the Human World."

"Of course."

"Okay, let me guess. You're mad at Sparda and looking for revenge?"

He shrugged. "Not exactly. You see, I may look young in human form, but I am an ancient being. I've existed for tens of thousands of years. I existed before Sparda. I knew him before his rise to power. We were...well, not _friends_, as you would call it. Friendship is a human concept, one that is foreign among demons. We were more like...allies." He shrugged again. "The point is, we associated often and knew each other very well, so he was more than aware of my...condition."

There was a brief silence for a moment while Lady took in his words. She realized she was clinging to them, fascinated. She abhorred demons with every ounce of her soul, but was at the same time fascinated by them, by the different types, by how they functioned.

"Condition?"

"I am a rare breed of demon. There weren't many of my kind when I was young, and there are even less now. That is largely, of course, thanks to Sparda." He looked up into her eyes. "You see, my kind has a very...special relationship with human beings. We need them to stay strong. To survive."

"To survive?"

"Yes. Well, we can feed from other demons, but it's never the same. If only surrounded by demons, we will fade into obscurity soon enough, or become weakened enough to be overpowered."

"Wait. _Feed_? You mean, like...eat them?"

"No. You see...we feed off of the inner essences of beings. Their emotions, their memories and feelings. Demons have a very limited amount of these. Humans, on the other hand..." He chuckled. "You are such ridiculously complex beings. Euphoria, depression, rage, passion, love, memories and hopes defining the very essence of who you are...let me put it to you this way. Feeding from a human is like drinking from a well full of crystal clear water. Feeding from a demon is like drinking from a dirty puddle."

"So...basically, you feed on people's souls."

"Yes. Exactly. And you see, 'souls' are things that only belong to you humans. It's a rather simple word for such a complex thing, but nonetheless, there is something about you creatures that is unique. Something about you that separates you from the other animals. And that 'something' is the very thing my race thrives on. The very thing we need to survive."

Lady nodded slowly. All this talk was starting to creep her out, especially since she got the feeling this creature was planning on making her soul his next meal, but she wasn't afraid yet. It was true, she was trapped at the moment, but she had backup. Dante would be showing up soon. The thing she was most worried about at the moment was being caught by him in such an embarassingly defeated position. Once he arrived and freed her, she would never hear the end of it, and he'd probably throw in a couple of bondage-themed jokes while he was at it. The very thought made her face feel warm.

"You are thinking about him."

Her head snapped up and she glared at the man, but he was looking at her so knowingly it only made her blush more. "What?"

"Sparda's son. You are thinking about him at this moment, aren't you?" When she stuttered for a moment, he explained, "My kind has very deep instincts when it comes to sensing human emotion. It is how we know who to choose."

"I was thinking about him because I know where this story is going," she lied. "Let me guess. You feel betrayed because Sparda knew that you needed access to the Human World to survive, and yet he sealed you away from it without a care in the world. So now that you've finally escaped, you want to take revenge out on his son."

"Well, it's true that my anger at Sparda's betrayal has never faded, and I doubt it ever shall, even when I do destroy his son. But this isn't really about revenge. For so long I have struggled, barely surviving, trapped in the deepest levels of Hell. But at last I found my way back here to the Human World, and once I arrived, I decided to track down Dante. News of him had traveled to even the furthest corners of the Underworld. My motivation for coming back to your world was merely survival - and a bit of fun, of course, you humans are amusing to toy with - " He grinned at her icy stare. " - but I thought while I was here, it was only fitting to feed from the son of the one who betrayed me, who himself could one day serve as quite a threat. But...I know this isn't something to be easily done. I have been in this city a long time, watching young Dante. Planning ahead...being cautious, you know. He clearly has inherited skill from his father, and I'm not foolish enough to think he will be easily conquered. So..." He sighed now, leaning back as he told his story. "I was watching him, and nothing particularly eventful happened, and then one night, you happened to come along." He looked back up into her eyes, smiling. "You intrigued me. Normally when females who weren't clients entered Dante's office, they were...well, nothing like you." He chuckled, looking away.

She imagined Dante bringing home random, scantily-clad women and doing the things to them he had done to her, and she couldn't stop herself from feeling jealous. Violently so. She convinced herself it was anger at his pervertedness.

"They didn't drive motorcycles, certainly weren't armed, and were clearly only there for one thing, and I don't believe it involved talking." He looked back up at her, his amused eyes telling her he knew how much she was silently simmering. "You, on the other hand...well, you were clearly not one of those girls. Although if I'm not mistaken, the night ended in a similar way."

She would have been more embarrassed if she hadn't been so pissed off. Her eyes narrowed. "Get to the point already."

"The point is, I assumed you were a demon hunter. Few humans choose such a path, but it has been known to happen." He stood then, looking directly into her eyes, and began walking closer slowly. "I was right, of course. I wanted to observe you. To see how dedicated you really are. You've proven yourself more than worthy. You are clearly skilled."

There was a brief silence as he approached her, and she glared up at him as he got nearer. "Do you expect me to say 'thank you' or something?"

"No, no. You see, the reason I'm so interested in you, Miss Lady..." he stopped directly in front of her now, not far away. She could feel nervous tension creeping over her flesh at being so close to this creature. He looked so human, but up close, he gave off an aura that was otherworldly and powerful. "...is because if there's one thing I've noticed over the years, it's that humankind, by its nature, is absolutely terrified of demons. They are _haunted _by them. They show up in mythology and religious texts. They are feared in every corner of the Earth. And rightfully so - humans are such...weak creatures, compared to us."

She froze as she suddenly realized he had brought his hand up, and something cold and metal was pressed beneath her chin. Her body went clammy as she realized he was pressing her loaded gun against her own throat, tilting her chin up with the barrel. She instinctively tried to bring her hands down to push it away, wincing as the metal cut deep. She stayed frozen, a defiant gaze masking her fear, although she knew she couldn't hide it from him. He was closer to her than he'd ever been. She could feel him breathing. She realized suddenly that she could _smell _him now, the same strong demonic scent that all the inhabitants of Hell carried with them wherever they went. He had smelled like cigarette smoke the other day. _That must be why, he must have been smoking to hide it. _Her heart thudded.

"You see?" He spoke slowly now, in an almost seductive way. "You feel fear. Even the bravest of humans are still such frail creatures. All it would take is one bullet to shatter your skull beyond recognition. One slip of the finger, and your life is gone forever."

She felt her heart beating, her face warming slightly at the thought that he could hear it, too. He was so close to her. _Too _close to her. And his words were affecting her, because she knew they were true. She knew it, and it was what she hated about herself. Her frailness. Her weakness. Her _humanity_. She hated it.

After seconds that felt like hours, he backed away, the gun leaving her throat. She couldn't help but feel relieved, swallowing hard. He backed away then and spoke as if nothing had happened.

"Needless to say, it is an extremely rare type of human who will voluntarily _choose _to interact with demons, to risk their lives hunting them down. It takes a very..._special _type of person. And, from my experiences, I've noticed that all human devil hunters seem to share one common link - a tragic experience in their past."

Lady's eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously, though her nerves were beginning to return. She didn't know what he had planned, but she had a feeling she was not going to enjoy it.

_Dante, where the hell are you? _

"You see, in order to compel a human to travel such a dangerous road, there has to be some sort of experience, something _powerful, _that happened to them. What else could compel a human to train so hard, to push their limits so strenuously, to risk their lives daily?" He resumed his seat on the crate. "I have not come across many human devil hunters at all over the course of my life, and I've been alive for a very long time. But I can tell you this - every one I have ever come across has had some serious emotional baggage, and the taste of them was..." He smiled. "Extremely satisfying."

She glared. Blood was rushing through her veins. She tried to think of a way to manuever her hands out of their confinement, although she wasn't sure what she would even be able to do once she was freed. This demon wouldn't go down easy.

"You see, Lady, negative memories are ten times more powerful than positive ones. Same with negative emotions. The tragic ones, _those _are the ones we hunt down. Which is why when I found you, I knew I'd found something special."

He stood then, stood and began towards her again. She was about to threaten him, to let him know he wouldn't get away with shit because Dante was coming, but she kept quiet. If he knew Dante was coming, he'd be able to prepare. They had to keep the element of surprise - she couldn't fuck it up because of her own mounting fear. Not to mention, part of her was starting to worry he wasn't going to show up in time.

"So let's just explore a little, shall we?"

He tossed her gun carelessly to the floor and she watched as it skidded far away, joining the pile of the others, a short distance behind her. Footsteps were approaching now, echoing against the bare walls. She wheeled back around to face him and he was already near her, though he wasn't walking towards her. She watched suspiciously, body tense, as he came to a stop behind her, and she felt his skin brush against hers as he reached up and undid the chain binding her. He didn't bother untying it; he merely snapped it in half, the links falling in pieces to the ground with a clink. She immediately pulled away and whipped around to face him, rubbing at the red abrasions on her wrists, goosebumps rising on her flesh from the skin-to-skin contact they had briefly made.

She wasn't sure what to do. Her eyes flicked over to her guns. Should she run to them? He was too close. He'd stop her. Even if she made it, would they be effective? But she couldn't just stand there either, she had to do something, she had to MOVE, or this bastard was going to drain the life from her. Jumbled plans of action rolled around in her head, and she darted for her guns out of instinct, refusing to simply stand and wait for him to attack. She reached down and grasped Kalina Ann, pulling up her rocket launcher and wasting no time in pulling the trigger. The large weapon jolted against her and the room rumbled with the explosion, and for a second she had a chance to be amazed that she had made it, she had gotten to her weapons in time and managed to fire a shot, but no sooner had the thought crossed her mind then she suddenly felt a hand squeezing her neck from behind. She gasped, cringing, head arching back at the unexpected painful contact, and in this moment of distraction, he used his free hand to rip the launcher easily from her grip. It clanked to the floor and her mind raced as she wondered how he had gotten behind her so fast, when had he moved?

"Ah, ah, ah." He chided, as a parent would to a naughty child. His voice sounded almost playful, but suddenly the hand grasping her neck shoved forward, and she fell roughly to the floor, arms springing out to break her fall just in time. She groaned as she hit the ground, and felt her blood run cold at just how harshly he had pushed her. He had been so calm this whole time that his sudden violence was surprising and frightening. She began to rise, but as soon as she did, she was overcome by an odd sensation, and she realized with dull horror that it felt just like before, before when she had fainted. Her head felt fuzzy, her body felt light, and suddenly she couldn't see. She dimly felt a thud against her knees as she collapsed to them.

"Now..." his voice cut through the fog, and she realized dimly that if she could hear him, she couldn't be too far gone, but she still couldn't seem to bring her limbs to move. She felt paralyzed. "One thing I must admit I've been curious about. Your real name can't possibly be 'Lady', can it?"

She heard another sound in the darkness suddenly. Distant, but distinct. The sound of a child's laughter. A girl's. The laughter grew louder and louder until it was inside her head, and then suddenly blackness was replaced by the vision of a little girl in a summer dress running across a green landscape. A little girl with black hair and big, heterochromic eyes. She was laughing and running, and another voice soon accompanied.

_"MARY! Mary, come back here!"_

The little girl still ran, and now following her was another figure, a beautiful woman with flowing black hair, and although she couldn't feel her limbs, Lady somehow felt cold terror creep across her flesh as she realized she was seeing her own memories, memories from the distant past. She felt despair and sharp longing as she watched her former self being chased by her late mother, and horrified, horrified because she didn't want to see this, she didn't want to_ see_...

_"Mary!" _Kalina Ann caught up and scooped the small girl into her arms, who giggled as she tried to pull away. _"Don't you dare run away like that again, do you understand me? You scared mommy."_

_"I'm sorry, mommy." _She leaned forward and kissed her mother's cheek, making the woman's face light up with a smile. His voice cut through the fog as the memory continued to play across her vision, though it sounded distant.

"Mary? Wouldn't have guessed that myself. Sounds too innocent. Though it appears you _were_ innocent once, weren't you, Mary?"

_Don't...don't call me that..._she managed to think through the haze. She couldn't seem to get the words past her throat. But he heard them anyway.

"Don't call you that? But why not? It's such a beautiful name, don't you think?"

The scene from the park had faded into a new one, and now she was back at her old home, the mansion that had once been a haven but that she now associated with evil and death. She was older now, a preteen, the childish dress having been replaced by a school uniform, which covered a somewhat-lanky, growing frame. She had just arrived home, backpack slung over one shoulder.

_"Mary!"_

It was a stern male voice calling out this time, and her eyes widened both in real life and in the memory. Her father came around the corner, grasping a small packet of papers and not looking very happy. But he didn't look scary, not yet. This was quite awhile before he changed. Still, at the sight of him she felt her stomach churn, feeling sick, angry, and afraid all in one.

_"Young lady, your mother just informed me that you failed your math test. Would you care to explain?" _He put the packet of papers, which had a large "F" written in red ink at the top, into her hands. She looked down at the test guiltily.

_"I-I'm sorry, father...I didn't study for the test..."_

_"And why is that? You know there are no excuses for receiving a failing mark."_

_"I know, I'm sorry! I won't do it again! I'll - I'll ask if I can re-do the test."_

_"I don't expect to see any more of this from now on. You are simply too smart, my dear."_

_"I know. It won't happen again..."_

Lady was only vaguely paying attention to the scene taking place; whatever it was didn't matter. It didn't matter what he was saying, or what was happening, just hearing his voice and seeing him again was making her feel sick. And it seemed as though the more sick she felt, the more surreal everything felt, the more powerless she felt, the more it felt like she was floating. She managed to wonder vaguely if the demon was feeding from her.

"Mmm, you're giving off a very strong reaction towards that man." His voice seemed even more distant than before, though it still cut sharply through the fog. "He is the cause of your despair."

He was going to force her to watch worse memories, she knew, and she was terrified at the prospect. She didn't feel like herself; she felt detached, helpless, almost as though she didn't really exist, and more than anything else she felt cold fear. She couldn't bear to watch. She _couldn't. _

He was apparently bored of watching the ordinary memories because suddenly her mind seemed to be on fast forward, memories flashing quickly before her eyes before fading into new ones. Everything was blurry as the vision of herself grew older and older before her eyes, nearer and nearer to that night, and the more the images played across her vision, the more detached from the world she seemed to become. She could hardly hear her own thoughts anymore. She couldn't feel her body. She felt smothered.

And then suddenly, there it was. He had found it. The basement. Her own screams from not so long ago filled her ears, ten time more amplified than they had been in her nightmare.

_"NO! MOTHER!"_

But that wasn't what bothered her. What bothered her was the sight of her mother's corpse. She could see it in front of her own eyes, crystal clear, and for a moment she really believed she was back in the basement, that the screams she was hearing were really coming from her, and she forgot about the demon as the memory completely engrossed her. No, her mother couldn't be dead, she _couldn't_! She felt like she was going to be sick, overcome with violent despair, and her only mercy was that she felt as though she was fading away. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn't merely breathless; she really couldn't _breathe. _But she could still hear the memory, and still see it. It was more real than real life. She wanted it to end, she wanted her consciousness to cease altogether, she wanted to continue fading until she never had to see her mother's bloody, lifeless form _again_ -

And then abruptly it seemed to stop, and then she did lose consciousness. How much time passed while she was in this state of limbo she had no way of knowing, but without warning she was awoken again by sudden, incredible pain.

Her eyes snapped open, wide, mouth gaping wordlessly, but she couldn't see. She had awoken to blackness, confusion, emptiness, and dark, and the only thing she felt was something sharp and fierce in her abdomen. _Inside _her. It was INSIDE her. Something was stabbing her. Why couldn't she see it? Why couldn't she move? All she felt was the pain, and the hot blood beginning to drip, and the horror in her mind, and _PLEASE God just make it stop! Make it end!_

The pain overwhelmed her whole being, and she had time to think that this was it, something had gotten her, she had finally met her match, before she lost consciousness, body falling to the ground, and the pain finally ceased.


	25. Will to Live

**_Chapter Twenty-Five - Will to Live_**

**[XXV]**

Dante wasn't sure why he bothered to take a shower before leaving for a potential demon fight, in which he'd only get dirty again, but he did anyway. Whatever the reason why, in the late afternoon he found himself standing under the warm stream of water, listening to it beat against the tub and letting it caress his skin. It was so relaxing that once he was actually clean, he just stood there for a while, half falling asleep. It was nice being in there, with nothing to keep you occupied except the rythmic tapping of the water, the white tiles on the walls, and the warmth all around. It was like a little sanctuary, secluded from the outside world.

Well, with the exception of the poster strategically placed on the inside of the bathroom door. A busty model in a bikini kept her seductive eyes on him the whole time. After awhile of relaxation, his hand drifted down and he let himself give in to her charms, as he often ended up doing. It didn't help that he had Lady on his mind, either. Now whenever he thought of her he also inevitably thought of that night, of her soft body and the way she had made him feel. He had been doing his best not to think of her the past few days, but it was hard, really damn hard. How was he supposed to forget a woman who had gotten such a strong reaction out of him? Not easily, that was for sure.

Although, he thought later as he was walking down the concrete sidewalk through the evening darkness, it became easier to avoid thinking about her when he thought of how frustrated she made him. Not that it was surprising. She had frustrated the crap out of him when they first met at Temen-ni-gru, and although she seemed to have matured somewhat since then, her stubbornness hadn't really changed. All the same, he couldn't bring himself to dislike her, or even really be angry with her for too long. He still enjoyed seeing her, as he had discovered last night. He had been a bit surprised when she'd called, but happily surprised. Things had felt rather cold and silent after she'd left, but as the days went on his anger had faded into more of a disappointment. When she had called, he hadn't found himself really feeling anything except looking forward to seeing her again.

Then actually seeing her, of course, only made those annoying feelings come back, annoying because they were powerful and he wasn't sure what they meant. All he knew was it wasn't just lust anymore. Whatever it was, it was similar to friendship (although that wasn't the exact word for it, either), so of course he had invited her to come back to his place. And of course she had said no. Because, after all, she was here on _business. _It wasn't like she came to see him. They were only interacting as _business _partners.

Pssh. Whatever. He'd get her to come around tonight. Maybe. At the least, he was looking forward to the possibility of kicking some demon ass with her; although it had been a long time, he remembered how much fun it had been the last time they fought together. In fact, maybe that was exactly what they needed; maybe after they dealt with whatever crap they'd find in that old building, maybe she'd be in a better mood, maybe she'd actually be open to the possibility of hanging out after...

He smirked to himself, removing his trusty guns from their holsters and twirling them around his fingers absentmindedly as the old building began coming into view. He was so distracted by thoughts of them fighting together it never crossed his mind that Lady could have started fighting without him, but as he drew closer to the warehouse, he realized she was nowhere in sight. And he definitely wasn't early or anything. As a matter of fact, he was probably _late_. He tended to be late to most things. He didn't _mean _to, it was just that he had always thought of meeting times as more like guidelines than things set in stone. He had figured Lady would wait for him, although in retrospect he wasn't sure why. But she _had _to be in there; she didn't strike him as the type that would show up late for anything.

_Fine, _he thought. _Go ahead without me, try to take all the credit. _But although he tried to keep his thoughts light-hearted, something strange was gripping at him as he drew closer to the door. The sense that something wasn't right. It was that annoying feeling he'd had for weeks now, the one that was driving him crazy. His eyes narrowed and he tried to listen intently, although he couldn't seem to hear anything.

Wait. He _couldn't _hear anything, not even footsteps. Either she _was _late and the building was empty, she was inside and standing perfectly still...or something was wrong.

He ripped open the front door and his breath caught in his throat.

Lady was kneeling on the ground, sweaty and pale, and there was a man standing near her, towering over her. His hand was raised in the air, his back to Dante. Her eyes were wide open and she looked terrified. Her body was trembling and her breath seemed to be coming in sharp gasps. Her weapons lay in a heap on the floor nearby.

All this he took in in less than a second, and he wasn't sure what was going on exactly, but in that second he registered two things - the man was a demon, and the fucker was hurting her somehow.

His arms were outstretched and he had fired a barrage of bullets into the man's back before the door behind him had even swung shut. He stopped firing as it clanged shut behind him, blocking out the light as the air filled with a sudden silence. He stopped to see what damage his bullets had done, although his arms remained stretched out in front of him, fingers waiting ready on the triggers.

The man hadn't flinched, his back now riddled with bullet holes. The fabric of his jean jacket was ripped, but Dante watched as the wounds healed themselves beneath. Okay, so guns wouldn't do a whole lotta good. Looks like this was gonna be a sword fight. Still, Dante remained frozen, waiting for his opponent to make the next move. His eyes drifted back to Lady, who was in the same condition. For the first time in a long time during a fight, he began to feel some anxiety creeping around the edges of his heart.

"Ah." A deep voice spoke. "What a pleasant surprise."

The man slowly turned around, and the smile on his face did look strangely pleasant, although sinister.

"Dante. _The _Dante. The son of Sparda himself. We meet at last."

He looked annoyingly calm and unimpressed for someone who had just met Sparda's son, Dante decided, but was distracted from his potential ego-stroking by a soft noise coming from Lady. Her eyes were closing now, and she was panting slightly, and then she fell forward to lay against the floor, apparently unconscious. He felt more anxiety twitch through him but didn't outwardly flinch.

"Oh, don't worry. She's fine. Just resting."

His eyes snapped back to the demon, who was staring him down unflinchingly. Dante got the unnerving feeling that his mind was being probed. Normally he could stare anyone down, but this guy was damn c_reepy. _However, he still played it cool, lowering his guns at last and taking a few careful steps forward.

"So. You seem to know who _I_ am. Can't say I've ever seen _you_ before."

"We've never formally met, but I've been watching you for quite some time now."

Dante tried to ignore the slight sinking of his stomach at that eerie prospect. That would explain the bad feeling he'd been getting. He scoffed, and then grinned. "That so? Looks like I've got a stalker. Well, I hate to break it to you, but I only do chicks. Sorry, dude."

The man chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Oh, you are just like he used to be. The resemblance is uncanny."

Dante halted. He didn't need to ask to know who the demon was referring to.

"Always running his mouth, full of all kinds of arrogant presumptions. Walked with the same sort of swagger, too."

Dante chuckled darkly, leaning his head to the side. He could already sense where this was going, and he decided he was done with formalities. "So you knew my old man, huh? Let me guess; you're here for revenge?" He stuck his guns back in their holsters and quickly unsheathed Rebellion, the sword shining in what little light there was as Dante lowered it to the ground. "Let's cut the small talk, shall we? You wanna fight me, right?" He leaned forward, getting into an attack stance. "Come on. Let's get this show on the road!"

The man didn't so much as move. "I'm afraid you have it wrong. I have no interest in fighting you, although if all goes according to plan, you will be dead before the night is over."

Dante laughed humorlessly. "You think you can kill me without a fight? For a stalker, you don't know me at all, buddy." And then he lunged, deciding he was already sick of this guy's cold grin. He charged forward, ready to impale him clean through the gut.

But he was fast. And he moved. Dante shot forward like a bullet, but instead of the satisfying collision of steel against flesh he was expecting, he found himself stabbing thin air. When his boots skidded to a halt, he heard a voice at his left.

"You're too eager, I'm afraid."

He swerved to the side to see the man standing there, calm, hands behind his back even. _Damn he moves fast, _Dante thought. He breathed heavily, but grinned. He welcomed the challenge - he hadn't gotten in a good fight in far too long. Instead of trying the sword again, he reached behind him, quick as lightning, and fired Ivory directly at the demon's face, knowing it wouldn't do much damage but hoping to stun him.

But he was gone, the bullet pinging uselessly against a pole as he moved rapidly to avoid the attack. Dante fired a stream of them after the demon's retreating form, so fast it was a blur, but then suddenly he realized the demon was heading towards the fallen form lying nearby on the gritty floor and ceased fire just in time. The man was still again, and there was a soft moaning noise as he lifted Lady from the ground and held her in front of himself. Her back was leaning against him for support, arms dangling lifelessly at her sides, and he held her up by a hand around her throat, pressing her head back into his chest. It lolled to the side. It all happened in a manner of seconds, and Dante's stomach plummeted slightly as he stopped firing just in time to avoid hitting her.

For just a second his eyes were wide with surprise, but this show of vulnerability was short-lived. Instead he felt a fiery sort of anger bubbling up from the pit of his chest, and he gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on Rebellion's hilt.

"I'll say it again; I do not plan on fighting you." The demon's knuckles whitened ever so slightly as his grip tightened just a bit on Lady's slender throat. Dante felt unease coating his insides. "I have a few things to say to you, Mr. Dante, so I suggest you loosen that grip on your father's sword."

Dante was breathing a bit heavily, eyes sharp with agitation, but he let out a breathy exhale of a laugh. "_My_ sword. My father's dead." But he did lessen the grip, ever so slightly, as his eyes drifted down to Lady's unconscious form. Anger and unease simultaneously twisted inside of him. "What the hell are you doing with her?"

The demon looked down at the girl in his grip. "I could kill her quite easily, as I'm sure you could deduce. She is in a deep sleep, and crushing her windpipe would be simple enough." His hand squeezed tighter, and Dante instantly shot forward, his sword's tip now inches from the man's face. He gritted his teeth. The demon didn't flinch.

"But," he continued, and he loosened his grip, "I have no reason to do so. She is of no consequence to me. And I won't...provided that you put away that sword and behave like a civilized person."

Dante scoffed, a humorless grin appearing on his face. _Ah, I see how it is. _The demon was trying to manipulate him into doing whatever he wanted. Dante had had this tactic pulled on him before, but never with something so intensely personal at stake. He did lower his sword, but didn't sheath it.

"What do you want?" His voice was dangerous.

"Quite simply to speak with you."

Dante scoffed. "To _speak _with me."

"Yes."

Dante hesitated for a moment. _Alright, I'll play your little game...for now. _He didn't sheath his sword quite yet, however.

"Fine. But first." He motioned towards Lady's unconscious form with a nod of his head. "Wake her up."

"No. Our discourse is none of her concern."

Dante hesitated, trying to hide just how much he cared about what happened to her, although he had a feeling the demon already knew. "_Fine._ Put her down, then."

"Put away your sword."

Dante glared, about to make his demands again, but deciding it wasn't worth it. He didn't know if the demon would actually hurt Lady, but it wasn't something he felt he could risk. Putting his sword back in it's sheath was hardly a big deal, anyway, he could get it back in a split second.

So he sighed, twirling Ivory around his finger before putting it away like it was all some big game to him, and set his sword back in it's rightful place on his back.

"There. Ya happy now?"

"Very well."

He lowered Lady's limp form to the ground slowly, laying her down in a surprisingly gentle way. Dante looked at her lying there, dirty, on the ground, looked at her tousled hair and grime-covered blouse, and he felt angry. He felt like lifting her into his arms, giving her a much more suitable place to rest her head while he was playing the demon's little game. But he wasn't going to show weakness. So he let his eyes drift back to the tall man standing in front of him. His body was tense, unsure of what to expect, of what this whole thing was about.

"So just what the hell do you want?"

The man held his arms behind his back, standing upright with rigid posture. Now that they were in closer proximity, Dante eyed him more critically. He _appeared _to be a normal human man, from his brown boots to his sharp eyes, but he gave off the same feel all demons did, the one that let Dante know whenever one was lurking nearby in disguise. Dante wondered what his true form looked like.

"You said before that this was about revenge." The demon began. His voice was deep and smooth, but still sounded human. "But it isn't. Sparda betrayed me, it's true. He left me to rot in the deepest pits of hell, left me to watch my own race slowly fade into nothingness..." He frowned ever so slightly in anger as he spoke, his eyes distant with old memories, but he regained his calm exterior almost instantly. "But Sparda is gone now. It would be foolish of me to think I could enact revenge by harming his offspring."

Dante scoffed. "Yeah, could you tell that to the rest of the demon population? They all wanna do me in just because I have my old man's blood."

The demon ignored his comment. "However," he continued, and turned his head to face Dante, sharp eyes meeting, "I find myself fascinated by you, son of Sparda." He looked away again, and began walking forward slowly. "Half human, half demon. Drifting between both worlds, never quite fitting into either. You're one of a kind."

_Two of a kind, _Dante thought, thinking of his twin, but with the thought of his lost brother his heart lurched rather painfully and he didn't say anything.

"Well, not _quite _unique." The demon continued. "There was your elder sibling." Dante raised an eyebrow, again getting the eerie impression that this demon could read his thoughts. "But truth be told, your name is much more notorious in the Demon World, due to your making a profession of murdering our kind."

Dante continued to glare, and he noticed that the demon seemed to be somewhat amused now, as if he knew his words were grating on his nerves. "And you were much easier to hunt down. You generally stay in the same area here in this human realm; your brother, on the other hand - "

"Look, is there a point to this?" Dante interrupted. "I don't care if this is supposed to be about revenge or not, you lured me to this place for a reason. Let's skip the small talk, shall we?"

He once again drew his sword with a metallic clang. The man followed it with his eyes, but Dante spoke again before he could say a word.

"First," he pointed Rebellion towards Lady's form on the ground, "just what the hell did you do to her?"

The man smiled. "You seem quite defensive."

Dante skirted around the accusation. "I just want an idea of what I'm dealing with."

The man chuckled. "I'm afraid you're dealing with far more than you could imagine."

"You're not answering my question."

The demon's eyes drifted down to the sword held in Dante's hand, still but ready to spring into action at any moment. "You're not doing as I told you."

"Heh. That's not how I work, buddy." Dante smirked. "I don't take orders from anyone. And I didn't come here to chat, either."

So he lunged again. He knew the first swing might be futile, considering how fast this guy was, but goddamnit if he couldn't get him eventually. He'd dealt with fast demons before. He'd dealt with demons who could transport themselves around rooms before. His adrenaline with pumping, his anger was mounting, and he was ready for a nice, hard fight. It had been far too long since he'd met a challenging demon, anyway. So bring it on.

Or at least, that's what had rushed through his mind in the seconds before he began to charge. What he hadn't anticipated was to be overcome by a sudden sensation of light-headedness, of dizziness. What started out as a mere floating sensation progressed to a near blackout within seconds. Suddenly his sword had clanged to the floor, he had thudded to his knees, and he wasn't aware of any of it because he was completely disconnected from the real world.

He had no idea what had hit him. He had no idea where he was, or what was happening. All he knew was paralysis and dark. It was as if his consciousness had been ripped from his body and left to float in an endless abyss, devoid of noise, feeling, and sight. He couldn't even think coherently. But he did manage to feel two things - confusion and dread.

**[XXV]**

The demon stood above Sparda's son, hardly able to believe his luck. Had he really gone down so easily? He felt a thrill at the sight of it. The boy was kneeling, one hand pressed into the ground for support, the other hovering over his fallen sword. His eyes were half-closed, dazed. An empty stare. Mouth slightly open, no noise coming out. He had seen the look on the countless thousands of faces of those he had put into trances before, but this one was special. It was different. He wanted to savor it.

He could feel Dante's essence begin to overtake him. He was pleased to discover that there was fear edging the devil hunter's heart, although utter confusion was the overwhelming taste. He was holding him in a state of limbo at the moment, as he was with the girl, who was still sleeping soundly on the floor. This, he figured, had been the safest choice. With the human devil hunter, he wasn't nearly as worried - he had only cast her into a light trance, just enough to overwhelm her, make her lose touch with reality but without making her lose consciousness...that is, until Dante had arrived, in which case he did so simply to keep her out of the way.

He knew the half-breed would show up - it was why he had lured Lady back to his city.

He was genuinely interested in feeding from the female devil hunter, but even more interesting to him had been the strong feeling he had sensed around Dante's building when he had first seen her there. Dante cared for her deeply, even more deeply than he consciously realized. This was something he could use to his advantage, to make the skillful hunter more compliant to his will. It was the key he had been searching for. The opportunity had been too perfect. He knew if he lured her back to Dante's city with a shady proposition, she was bound to get him involved, and she hadn't disappointed him. It presented him with the opportunity to feed from her, but also to use her to accomplish his ultimate goal - feeding from, and destroying, Sparda's son.

Dante's reputation was so notorious he had almost been fearful the trance wasn't going to hold him, or at least not sufficiently, but the young boy had been completely caught off guard. And that was exactly what he looked like now - a young, defenseless human boy. The demon smiled, letting his eyes roam over Dante's fallen form, face twisted in confusion, heart pumping steadily, savoring the sight before he finally let his eyes close and began to search through his memories.

It was easier with Dante - he knew exactly what he was aiming for. He hadn't known any of the girl's history prior to probing her mind, but Dante's history was much more famous. Every demon in the depths of Hell had heard of the night when demons sent by Mundus had murdered Sparda's human bride...about eleven years ago it had been now. It had been a time of much rejoicing, a much-needed victory. The demons were supposed to kill Sparda's children as well, but clearly they had survived, and he knew that surely the death of Dante's mother must have been the worst thing to happen in his short life thus far. He felt a thrill rush through him at the mere thought.

Arm outstretched, he let himself sink into Dante's mind, his heart, his consciousness. He let his confusion and growing dread serve as an appetizer as he shifted through his childhood memories, searching for that night.

An inevitable effect of probing someone's mind was that they, too, would see the memories. This was a beneficial effect, as being forced to relive their darkest moments caused them anguish, and he was able to feed on the despair both from the past and the present. As he scanned through childhood memories - watching the young white-haired twins playing, sparring, fighting, watching the beautiful Eva with her sons - he felt a sudden jolt of alarm course through Dante's body. The dread grew slightly more intense. The demon felt the corners of his mouth curve up. Oh, how he wanted to watch as Dante was forced to relive the worst night of his life. It was harder to concentrate with his eyes open - it sometimes caused him to lose focus - but it was something he had to try.

He found the night he was looking for soon enough, and he didn't rush through it, letting it play out at its natural pace. He felt more and more tension filling the air, and sure enough the despair, the fear and anxiety, present in the memory and in reality. Dante began to moan and choke. He breathed deeply, feeding slowly, savoring the taste. He watched as the blonde woman ran, screamed, as her frail human form was torn apart, watched the small, thin boy hiding in the wall, trembling like a leaf with wide blue eyes. He heard the demonic growling from that night long past, and he heard the gasping and choking in the present as he stole the boy's life force. The demon had a content smile on his face. It was an incredibly, beautifully satisfying sound.

After a moment, he couldn't resist any longer, and he opened his eyes slowly, still keeping his hold on him. Dante was even more slouched over now, as if something was painfully stabbing him in the gut. He was trembling, eyes wide but staring unseeing at the ground, mouth open and struggling to suck in air. Ivory locks fell over his eyes, but some were matted to his brow.

Dante, Sparda's infamous son, was completely at his mercy. It would be so easy to kill him now. All he had to do was continue feeding until he was nothing more than a cold, lifeless body on the ground. His mission would be complete. He would be a celebrated hero back in the Demon World.

But this was too big an event, too big a moment, to end so soon. He had other plans for the devil hunter. He would kill him soon, yes, but not before getting as much out of the opportunity as he could. He wanted to remember this night forever.

With his eyes open and his thoughts distracted, he began losing his grip a little. Slowly, Dante's consciousness began rising back towards the surface, back to where he would regain control over himself and be able to fight. But he wasn't worried. Instead of tightening his hold, he let it go, letting him come back to the present. This was exactly what he wanted. He looked down at the other fallen form nearby, the girl lying almost peacefully on the floor.

He smiled.

_Time to make you even more useful._

**[XXV]**

The real world came back slowly. It took Dante a good minute to realize where he was. He felt smothered; he was having a hard time breathing. His body was trembling violently. But these things were secondary to the horror he felt, to what he had just witnessed. It took him a moment to realize he was no longer a little boy, roaming through his destroyed old house, looking for any remains of his family. As his sight came back, he remembered the warehouse, and Lady, and the demon, and realized he was crouching, sweaty, on the floor. Only one coherent thought managed to make its way through his brain.

_What...the...hell?_

God, the images and sounds were still fresh in his mind. It was like he had been there all over again. He felt weakened, sick to his stomach, sad, angry, and confused.

Then he heard the footsteps of sturdy brown boots. He looked up, and simmering anger replaced everything else.

"You..." Dante managed to growl between breaths.

Clearly, the asshole had done something to him. But what exactly had happened? Nothing Dante had ever experienced before, that much was certain. He wasn't sure he had ever felt so defeated. This attack wasn't just physical; it was personal.

"I must admit, I am a bit disappointed." The man stopped walking and looked down at him, a short distance away. Dante struggled to stand, to get a good grip on his sword. "I had expected more of an effort out of you. Though young, your skills are fast becoming legendary." He sighed, though his satisfaction was apparent. "No matter. You taste delicious."

_Taste?_ Suddenly, it dawned on Dante what was going on. This was one of those demons he had only heard about in legends, never actually encountered for himself. A soul-feeder. One who fed not on flesh, but on feelings, memories, the very essence of a person's being. Especially satisfying to them was misery and despair. Suddenly it all made sense. He felt a bit stunned at the thought, but the demon had just been snacking on his soul. God, why hadn't he ever _prepared _for something like this? The thought had never even crossed his mind. He had never so much as heard of anyone dealing with a problem like that...he had thought the entire race had gone extinct after being trapped away from the Human World for so long...

Dante looked back up at the demon's smirking face with renewed hatred, still feeling too weak to come to a complete stand. That goddamn fucking _asshole. _How _dare _he violate his mind in that way...

He only seemed more pleased at Dante's silent anger, and his voice was calm when he spoke.

"However...to merely kill you so easily...it would be most unsatisfying. There is still one last thing I'd like to do."

He halted, and Dante suddenly realized with a jolt that he had stopped right by Lady's form. _Lady._ He had almost forgotten about her. She was still lying on the ground, eyes closed, chest rising and falling at a steady pace, white blouse bright against the dark, grime-covered floor.

"What..." Dante managed to growl. His breath was beginning to return to normal. "What the hell are you doing?"

"A pity..." The demon reached down and pulled Lady upright, her back leaning against his chest for support. He was holding her, once again, with a hand grasping her neck. Her head lolled backwards, arms limp. The demon looked down at her. "She was very interesting. I had hoped to get more out of her, but alas, you arrived sooner than I expected."

Dante finally managed to slowly get to his feet, propelled by a sudden onslaught of queasy anxiety and bubbling anger. This asshole was going to hurt Lady. _Not if I have something to say about it..._

He brought his eyes up to meet Dante's, and smiled.

"You have a very troubled past, son of Sparda. You taste most satisfying."

Dante breathed heavily, his heart thudding, his eyes a piercing glare.

"But as delicious as past anguish can be, it is nowhere near as satisfying as the pain of the present."

With that, there was suddenly a tearing noise. The demon's human disguise was finally ripping away. Skin began to get replaced by scales, clawed feet tore apart the brown boots, and long, spear-like claws burst out of formerly-human arms. Dante began forward before the disguise was even all the way gone, still stumbling but ready to charge. The demon began to change in about a split second, and one split second later he had lifted the arm that wasn't supporting Lady, raised it into the air, and thrust forward to imbed his spear-like claw cleanly into her abdomen.

Time stopped.

Or at least, it seemed to freeze and then move in slow motion. Dante stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened, his mouth open in shock. He felt burning horror in his gut, as if he were the one who had been stabbed. Lady's body jerked into action, as if she were a marrionette and her puppeteer had finally decided to pull on her strings. Her arms sprang up, eyes opened, mouth gaping in wordless horror, breathing raggedly. She bent forward, cringing in pain and still managing to look stunned. Her eyes were unseeing. She was still trapped in the void. She couldn't see Dante's face, which bore the same horrified expression. Only one coherent thought made its way through his mind.

_No._

Even she couldn't survive being stabbed in the gut. She was only human. He was going to lose her, just like he'd lost everyone else.

_No..._

Fear, anxiety and horror were replaced by a sudden, unquenchable rage. He felt hot blood pulsing in his veins, the way it always did right before going into Devil Trigger. Suddenly his fatigue was gone as he felt energy pulse through him. He stayed in human form, but he lunged with incredible force, and his cry sounded unearthly.

"HYEAAH!"

The demon moved fast, the rest of his human disguise falling away. He was so fast Dante only managed to knick his shoulder in his retreat, but he was forced to drop Lady. At least he hadn't been able to impale her all the way through, but who knew if it would matter? Dante's rage clouded his vision.

The demon was a distance away now. Lady lay fallen on the floor, but he didn't have time, he had to take out this abomination first. He could see the beast more clearly now. He had many eyes, sharp and red, and black, scaly skin. He was tall, and had those intimidating, spear-like hands, but beyond that he wasn't an enormous creature. It wasn't his physical appearance that mattered - it was his ability.

But Dante didn't care. His anger had reached the boiling point, and he was conscious of the blood pulsing through his veins. He felt as though he was going to Devil Trigger any moment, but before he could do so, he charged once again for the creature, whose shoulder had already healed from its brief meeting with Rebellion.

His anger propelled him forward. He ran, he charged...and he froze.

It was happening again. The demon had lifted his arm and suddenly his head began to feel fuzzy. The world disappeared. Everything was replaced by dark -

_No._

He felt himself disconnecting from reality, but Lady, Lady was on the floor dying -

_No..._

- she was dying and if he lost himself she'd die, and he'd be killed as well, and he couldnt't, he WOULDN'T let her go -

_NO!_

- he wouldn't -

_I won't let you hurt her._

His blood burned. He couldn't feel his limbs but he could feel his blood burning, and suddenly it happened. With an unearthly howl, in a burst of rage, indignation, and defiance, he Devil Triggered, his anger forcing his true form to the surface. And suddenly he could see again, he could feel again, he was in control of himself.

His true form broke the fog. It wasn't strong enough to hold him at his most powerful.

As always when he was in his devil form, everything was sharper, magnified times one hundred, yet at the same time, it all seemed to pass by in a blur due to the speed at which he was moving. He had charged again, this time like a speeding bullet, and the feel of scaly flesh under his claws, the smell of demonic blood, and the low cries of pain that reached his ears informed him he had finally gotten a good attack on his target. His rage drove him, leading him to claw at his victim with animalistic force instead of doing the more sensible thing and using Rebellion. However, his attacks still dealt powerful damage. He was tearing the bastard to shreds.

But then suddenly he was gone. He had disappeared from beneath him. Dante fell forward slightly into the open air, claws dripping with blood, and suddenly there was a powerful blow to the side of his head.

He fell to the side, head thudding against the floor. Suddenly he was back to human Dante, the blow surprising him into losing focus. His skull throbbed, and then he cried out as he felt incredibly sharp pain tearing through his abdomen. The bastard was above him, pinning him like a trapped butterfly with one of those spear-like claws.

Dante had lost track of how many times he'd been impaled in his life by now, but even though it didn't ultimately do him much damage, it still fucking _hurt. _He growled, realizing he was effectively trapped on the floor with the spear violating his insides. He felt the familiar, coppery taste of blood filling his mouth.

"Too hasty."

The voice above him was now nothing more than a demonic growl, sounding almost nothing like the smooth voice that belonged to the human disguise. Coughing slightly at the feel of blood in his throat, Dante looked up at his attacker, and was encouraged at the sight of what his claws had done. The demon was already healing, of course, but patches of flesh were torn away, and dark blood was splashed across the scales.

"You let emotion control you, son of Sparda. And that is where you fail."

He grimaced in pain, squirming against the floor, but then he shook his head.

"No." His voice was slightly strained, but determined.

"No?"

"No," he repeated. Emotion would be his saving grace. Emotion was what had separated Sparda from the other demons and turned him into the great warrior that he was. Emotion was what led Dante to ignore the blood in his throat and the searing pain, and think only of Lady, who was in pain she _couldn't _recover from. He looked up at the demon, a sick sort of smirk spreading across his face.

"Demons like you...have no emotions." He breathed out. "You don't understand them...so you underestimate their power."

"Don't understand them? Ha!" The demon thrust the spear harder, momentarily wiping the smirk off Dante's face as he grimaced in pain. "I have spent my life feeding on human emotions! I understand better than an inferior being like you ever shall."

Ignoring the indignation at being called an "inferior being", Dante shook his head again, coughing. "Observing..." he breathed out, his voice slightly strained. "...isn't the same as _feeling._"

There was a moment of silence that passed between the two of them in which they only stared at each other. Dante looked up at the demon's many beady eyes, solid red, blank yet somehow sharp. He could feel his blood flowing and readied himself. Normally he would have fought back sooner, but he had a feeling this was it, there would be no more words exchanged after this, and he wanted to drive his point home before this ended.

"You'll never know what it's like to care about someone else. You may have seen it," he coughed again. "But you don't _know_. You had no clue what you were getting yourself into."

The demon seemed to sense a retaliation was imminent, because Dante began to feel a bit light headed, and he knew it wasn't due to the pool of blood steadily forming beneath him. But he ignored it, shouldering the sensation aside and finally, slowly, beginning to rise. He was still in human form, but his tension was building, and even being close to bursting into his true form gave him more strength. His muscles trembled slightly against the strain, both of physically standing while the demon attempted to pin him, and the mental strain of holding off the fog. But the demon was distracted, trying to do two things at once, and Dante knew he was making progress when the demon drove his other arm into him with such force that he thudded against the floor, once again pinned, this time with two spears. He grimaced against the pain, but his blood only pounded more determinedly. He could taste the crimson substance trickling out of the corner of his mouth, and his vision swam, but he looked straight up at the snarling face.

"And that..." he finished finally, "is where _you _fail."

In a burst of light, he shot forward, a red and silver blur as he finally used his sword. His strength and the surprise of his sudden transformation allowed him to overpower the demon. Now the roles were reversed, Dante pinning the demon to the floor with Rebellion. Finally free of the demon's claws, his flesh already began to rapidly heal, sped up by his demonic form.

Everything was a blur again as the fight ensued. The demon wasn't going to give up so easily. But fortunately, his most powerful attack was his attack on the mind, and in devil form, Dante was strong enough to break free of the fog. Other than his speed, his physical attacks weren't well beyond average, and in devil form, Dante was just as fast. He stabbed, he clawed, he charged forward, sometimes he felt pain and sometimes he heard his opponent crying out in pain, and it all seemed to be happening at accelerated speed. Although during the fight everything seemed crystal clear, afterwards it would be nothing more than a blur in Dante's memory. There was no real strategy - he was powered by rage, by defiance, and by fear, fear that he was going to lose her before they even had a chance to _start _anything, lose the last person he had left...

It took energy out of him to stay in his true form, so even passion could only drive him so long. Eventually he flicked back to human, and everything seemed to settle back down. His body was sore. He was covered in sweat, breathing heavily. Rebellion was still grasped firmly in his hand, and the blade was coated in demonic blood. After a few heavy breaths, Dante suddenly realized he wasn't being attacked. He looked around, unsure as to what exactly had happened.

The floor, the shelves, were splattered with blood, undoubtedly from both him and his opponent. For a moment he was a bit amazed at the amount of blood, not quite realizing the extent to which things had gone while he was devil triggered. He searched the ground, and suddenly his eyes fell on the body.

The demon appeared to be a crumpled heap on the floor. Dante took a few tentative steps forward, feeling a bit dazed. Was he really dead already? Was it over so soon? Or it _seemed _soon...how long had it really been?

How long had Lady been bleeding to death on the floor?

That thought seemed to momentarily replace his veins with ice, and he wheeled around, searching for her body. He spotted it a little ways away. He felt his heart sink. She was still lying on the ground. Part of him had hoped she'd recovered enough to get up, start patching herself up, but she was still lying there, and what was more, her white shirt was soaked red. She was lying in a puddle of her own blood. He felt his throat constricting at the sight and a sudden panic overtook him. He began towards her.

_No. I can still save her. There's still time - _

"It's...too...late."

He halted. A very raspy and weak voice issued from behind him. He wheeled around. The bastard was still a crumpled heap on the ground, clearly close to the end, but still alive. They met eyes once again, Dante's face locked in a snarl.

"You will not save her, son of Sparda."

Dante shot forward, and a second later, he had crossed the gap between him and the body and planted Rebellion firmly through where he imagined the beast's heart would be. He howled in pain, then snarled defiantly, fighting against the blade, but Dante's grip remained firm, hate in his eyes. It was only a moment before his struggles ceased, and after removing his sword from the twitching body, it finally began dissolving slowly into the ground.

Dante felt a bit light headed, watching the corpse fade away. Was it really over? It had all seemed to happen so fast -

Lady.

Quickly sheathing his sword, he ran and fell to his knees by the slim body, his panic returning. He could feel her warm blood soaking his knees even through the red leather of his pants.

She was still. Her eyes were closed. Sweat still matted her hair to her brow. Her white blouse was torn where she had been stabbed, and the front was soaked red. From what he could see, the wound was nasty. God, there was so much fucking _blood. _In the first few seconds as his eyes roamed her, he had a horrifying moment of thinking he had truly lost her, that he was too late. Pure terror gripped him in a way it hadn't in a very long time.

But then he realized she was still breathing.

There was still time.

His mind raced through all the various medical information he had absorbed over the course of his life. He had never retained much of it, seeing as it was useless to him, but he remembered the very basics. Major blood loss equaled _bad_. He had to find something to use as a tourniquet. His mind flashed back to that time at the tower, what felt like so long ago now, when she had ripped gauze from one of her skirt pockets and used it stop the blood flowing from her wounded thigh. With hands that weren't quite steady, he snapped open a few of the pockets on her skirt, searching the area he seemed to remember her medical supplies being in.

He found it quickly, a large wad of the soft white material stuffed into one of the smaller pockets. He ripped it out, unrolling it and pressing it tightly against the wound on her abdomen. He felt the warm blood soaking through, getting on his fingers and gloves. He looked over at her face, his heart thudding audibly. She just looked so...lifeless. Just stopping the blood flow clearly wouldn't be enough this time. She needed professional help, and _now_. He mentally mapped the directions to the nearest hospital. It wasn't too far away, but still, he wasn't sure if there'd be enough time. Calling an ambulance would take too long, and so would carrying her himself.

Unless...

A plan formulated in his head, and he knew what he had to do. Rolling out more of the gauze, he wrapped it as best as he could around her slim waist, lifting her body slightly with one hand and wrapping with the other before tying it off when it had almost run out. He tied it as tight as he could, and waited a moment to see if it would hold. Blood began to soak through instantly, but it didn't seem to reach the surface. There wasn't much gauze left, anyway, so it would have to do for now. Too much damn time had passed already, he had to go _now. _Her breathing had gotten more shallow, and he _couldn't _lose her. It simply wasn't an option.

Lifting her light form into his arms, he made his way quickly towards the entrance of the warehouse. She felt limp in his arms, one of which was under her knees and the other behind her back, her head falling lifelessly against his chest where his heart was pounding. He kicked open the door and rushed out into the fresh air of the night. He ran towards the road, looking in the direction he knew he needed to go.

Just running in his normal form would never be fast enough. Calling an ambulance would take forever, especially since there didn't appear to be a phone nearby. And running in devil trigger wasn't an option - what if someone saw him? What if he crashed into someone in his hurry?

The best option was to simply go above it all.

Propelled by his anxiety over the situation, he concentrated, building up his energy until he felt his blood boiling, and then he burst into his true form, never letting her go. He ran through the long grass until he was back out into the street, looking towards the sky.

He gave his wings a few experimental flutters. He had never really used them much before, only on a few occasions, and even then he hadn't done anything more than hover a few feet above the ground. He wasn't really a demon that was meant to fly, and he wasn't sure if he was really up to the task of what he was about to do.

But he had no choice, damnit. And he would do whatever it took.

He ran forward so fast he was a blur, flapping his wings slowly before finally taking off. The first few feet were easy, but he felt himself straining a bit as he flew higher and higher. However, he managed to reach his goal with rather surprising speed, and soon he was high above the ground, level with the roofs of buildings. Holding Lady tightly in his arms, he sped forward, flying as fast as his wings would allow him.

He had difficulty staying in his devil form too long, due to how much energy it required. Flying made it even more difficult, especially since it was something he wasn't as used to, not to mention the fact that he was carrying another person. A part of him feared he would suddenly go back to being human while he was still so high above the ground. But he didn't have time to think of that. His panic drove him onward, flying like lightning across the sky.

He had no other choice.

**[XXV]**

Everything was darkness and pain. Consciousness was like a boat on an unsteady sea, seeming to rock slowly in and out. Sometimes everything was blank, and then suddenly she'd begin feeling sharp pain and drift towards the surface, but then she'd fade back down, until the pain woke her again. It was a disorienting dream world, one in which she remained oblivious to all except the pain and the sense that something was wrong, the desperation to do something, but the inability to even fully rouse into consciousness.

Despite being trapped in this painful state of limbo, she noticed the subtle changes around her body when they began happening. The air felt stuffy and the ground felt firm every time she half-woke, and the few times she had briefly opened her eyes, she had found herself staring up at industrial shelves and a ceiling. She went deep under for a while again, and the next time she began floating towards the surface, something in her brain registered that the air had changed. It was much cooler, and blowing slightly against her face. And the surface she was on...it felt different. Less like a flat surface, and more like something was holding her.

She floated slowly, almost gently despite the searing pain, towards consciousness, becoming more and more alert. She realized the whispering noise in her ears was air wooshing by. She could faintly make out a muffled noise in the distance, one that sounded like cars driving by. It took a moment for her brain to process her apparent new surroundings, and a moment later, her eyes fluttered slightly open.

The ceiling was gone. What she saw now was the night sky. And it was moving. She felt groggy and confused. She blinked her eyes again, and when she opened them a little wider, she saw the face of the one holding her.

Terror shot through her weak body, cold as ice. A hideous, demonic face was above her. A demon was _holding _her. Holding her while she was in pain, defenseless. He was probably the reason she was in pain to begin with. The demon had her and was hurting her and there was nothing she could do. She was trapped in his grasp.

For a few seconds, her eyes were wide, staring up at the face that was looking straight ahead, scaly and emotionless. Then her terror become more and more fuzzy and finally disappeared as darkness overtook her once again.


	26. Die By Your Hand

**_Chapter Twenty-Six – Die By Your Hand_**

**[XXVI]**

As miraculous as it may have seemed, Lady had never been a patient in a hospital before. Despite all she had been through, despite the unusual amount of violence in her life and the number of injuries she had gotten, she had never been admitted to a hospital. The main reason was because she didn't like accepting help from people, and chose to simply deal with her injuries herself. The other reason was because she had never gotten anything that was _really _hospital-worthy. She had never been seriously ill, never broken a bone, never needed something removed from inside of her. The most serious thing to ever happen to her was being stabbed in the leg. That probably _had _been hospital-worthy, but even that she had ignored and she was no worse off for it in the long run. She had visited others in hospitals a few times, but overall it wasn't a place that she frequented.

Nonetheless, when she woke, she knew where she was before she had even opened her eyes.

As she roused into consciousness, the first thing she was aware of was a steady beeping noise. It sounded familiar, but at first she couldn't place it. The next thing she was aware of was the pain. It was dull but still there, coating the general area of her abdomen. Things there felt very tender and sore, and although it wasn't necessarily painful, it felt as if there was pain being masked by something, hiding below the surface. Finally, she was aware of the smell. That stiff, clean, medicine smell that is the trademark of all medical facilities.

But it wasn't really even those things that gave it away. What gave it away was that she had just always had a feeling that someday, something would happen, something would go wrong, and she would wake up not knowing where she was only to discover she had been critically injured and brought to the hospital. Thoughts floated through her mind before her eyes opened, and her disorientation seemed to assure her that her bad feeling had finally come true.

When she finally opened her eyes, sure enough, she found herself in a bed with metal bars on the sides, covered with a thin sheet, in an unfamiliar room. She looked around. The walls and ceiling were white, fluorescent lights buzzing up above. On both sides of her curtains were drawn, separating her from, she assumed, other patients. She could hear talking coming from behind the curtain on her right, but she was still too sleepy to make out what was being said. Closer nearby, there was that beeping machine and an IV rack. She looked down at her arm, which was lying on top of the sheet, and shuddered slightly. There was an IV drip stuck inside her, and for some reason it creeped her out. There was also a small clip on her index finger, measuring the currently steady beat of her heart. She looked away, feeling strangely sick at the sight of being hooked up to machines.

For a few minutes she just sat there, staring straight ahead with a furrowed brow. She felt utterly confused. She had _never _woken up somewhere with no knowledge as to how she had gotten there, or why, and she tried desperately to remember. Well, one thing was pretty obvious. Something must have gone seriously wrong while she was fighting demons. Wrong enough that she had woken up in a stupid hospital gown with dull pain in her abdomen and no remembrance of what had happened. She was tempted to lift up the covers and look at the area that hurt, but at the same time she was almost afraid to. She wanted to deny that this whole situation was even happening. Seeing potentially serious damage to her body would only make it worse. She at least wanted answers as to how she had gotten here first.

After a few minutes of silent, confused contemplation, someone finally came into her view. An older nurse wandered out from behind the curtain, and when she met Lady's eyes, she smiled.

"You're awake!" Lady recognized her voice as the one who had been talking behind the curtain. She walked closer to her bedside. "How are you feeling, dear?"

Lady didn't say anything for a moment. Lots of questions were swimming around in her head, and finally she settled on, "How long have I been here?" She cleared her throat, her voice seeming a bit rough.

"Oh, it's only been a few hours. You were brought in at just before seven, and it's currently," she looked down at a wristwatch, "just after ten."

Lady stared straight forward at the wall, still trying in vain to remember anything about the last few hours, but it was all a big, blank space in her mind. The nurse spoke up again at her silence.

"What's your name, dear?"

"Lady," she responded without thinking.

It was the nurse's turn to look confused. "What was that?"

"It's _Lady_." She repeated, louder.

"Lady? Is that your nickname?"

"No, it's my _name_."

The nurse was silent, then chuckled softly. "Well, aren't you a mystery, Miss Lady. You had a lot of..._interesting _items on you when you showed up, but what you didn't have was a wallet. No insurance card, no form of identification. We've been trying to figure out who you are, but no one recognizes you. And now you're telling me your name is -"

"What happened to me?" Lady interrupted.

The nurse looked down at her, face softening. "How much do you remember, dear?"

Lady thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Nothing."

"Well," the nurse sighed, looking at the wall as she remembered, "at just before seven PM, you were brought in by a mysterious young man with white hair. He gave us about as much information as you did." She chuckled. "He just said you had been attacked by a demon and needed immediate attention. As soon as you were taken away – "

"Wait." Lady cut her off. Suddenly, at the mention of her "friend", who could only undoubtedly be Dante, a few fragments of her memory began returning. That's right. She was in Dante's city. She had come here because of a mission given to her by some shady guy who had refused to give her contact information. She seemed to recall a warehouse, but beyond that, she wasn't sure.

Well. Apparently she had had reason to be suspicious.

And apparently, whatever had happened to her, Dante had seen it. Not only seen it, but had been the one to _bring _her here. She felt her stomach sinking a bit with shame at the idea. She had always strived to not seem weak in front of him, but all that had apparently been for nothing if he had seen her like _this._

She attempted to sit up straighter, wincing slightly but ignoring the pain that came with movement. The nurse placed a hand on her shoulder, easing her back down. "You really need to lie still, dear."

"What happened after that?" Lady asked, ignoring her suggestion.

The nurse sighed. "Well, as I said, as soon as we took you in, he left, before we could question him. He had attempted to bandage your wound, but you were still bleeding profusely. Now I don't know if you were really attacked by a demon, but whatever happened gave you a very deep wound. It only took a few moments of examining for the doctors to determine you needed stitches. So, they put you under and patched you up. Have you ever had stitches before, dear?" Lady shook her head, feeling a bit dazed. "Alright, then there are some things we'll need to go over. But we can talk about that later. First, we need to know who you are! There are some police officers waiting to question you when you're able, and I have a feeling just telling them your name is _Lady_ isn't going to satisfy them." She chuckled, and Lady suddenly turned her head to look sharply at the nurse.

"Question me? Why?"

"Well, dear, as I said before, you had some…interesting items in your pockets. And in your boots, for that matter! Grenades, knives, and lots of bullets, to be precise."

Realization washed over Lady. Of course. Obviously they'd want to know what someone was doing carrying enough ammunition to take out a small army. She always carried several guns with her. She thought it was strange the nurse hadn't mentioned her guns, or her damn missile launcher for that matter –

And then, suddenly, Lady's memory came back in a burst. That's right…her guns had been taken away from her. Images of the warehouse, the demon, recollections of their fight that wasn't really a fight, all of it came swarming back to her. She felt hot anger begin to build up inside at the thought of everything that had happened. At least, everything that she could remember. She didn't recall seeing Dante at any point. She recalled up to the point where the demon freed her from that pole pretty clearly, but everything after that was fragmented. She knew he had done something to her, something involving invading her mind. Some of the fragmented images were of old memories. But there was something else there. Suddenly, a memory of a demonic face entered her mind. She felt a slight chill wash over her. That must have been what he had looked like in his true form, she figured. God, it had been _hideous._

Wait. Had been? Or still was? Was the demon still alive? And when did Dante come into the scene? There were still too many questions that needed to be answered.

"…so naturally, we confiscated them."

Lady came back to the present moment slightly, realizing she hadn't been paying attention to the nurse. "I mean, weapons in a hospital of all places! We have to keep those kinds of things in a safe location. You'll get them back, provided that the police are satisfied with whatever excuse you have for carrying them."

Lady suddenly felt defensive at the idea that someone else was handling her ammunition. "I don't need an excuse. They _belong _to me."

The nurse only smiled, much to Lady's further frustration. "Yes, well, nevertheless, dear, you'll have to do some explaining to them. But don't worry about that now. For now, we just need to get some basics straightened out. How old are you, dear?"

Lady sighed. She wasn't up for being questioned. "Eighteen."

"Do you live with your parents?"

"My parents are dead."

There was a brief pause before the next question. "Do you live with a relative?"

"No, I live alone."

"You're awfully young to be living alone, aren't you?"

"I'm legally an adult. And before you ask, no, I don't have any relatives. It's just me. And I don't have insurance, either." She sighed. "But don't worry. I have money."

There was a longer pause this time. Lady stared at the wall, but out of the corner of her eye she could see the perplexed look on the nurse's face. It did seem like a rather odd situation, but it was the truth. Lady felt tired. She didn't want to explain any more. She just wanted to get her weapons back, get out, and get answers.

Finally, the older woman sighed. "I'm not really the one who should be asking these questions, anyway. You'll probably get asked a hundred times by the cops, but don't worry about that yet, okay dear? You need to take it easy first. Do you want something to drink?"

Her first instinct was to say no, but her throat was unusually dry, probably due to whatever they had used to knock her out. "Yeah. Please."

She smiled. "Alright. I'll be right back, dear. There's a nurse named Connie attending to the patient on your left at the moment, but if you need anything, just give her a shout." She headed for the door and was halfway through, when suddenly she turned back around. "Oh, I almost forgot. That young man, the one who brought you in, he showed up about an hour ago and has been waiting to see you."

Lady felt her stomach drop slightly. No way. There was _no way_ she was letting Dante see her like this. Her stomach squirmed at the mere thought. She looked so…so _human. _So weak and defeated.

But he had already seen her that way. He was the one who had seen whatever had happened to her and brought her in to begin with. It was too late. Besides, she was desperate for answers, and he was the only one who could give them to her. Not to mention, he'd apparently been waiting for her for about an hour. She felt herself warming a little at that thought. She imagined him trying to bandage her wound (having no clue what he was doing, of course), carrying her into the emergency room, sitting in the waiting room staring at the wall, looking worried. God, it was getting really hard to convince herself that he didn't care about her, and possibly harder to pretend that she didn't care about _him_…

But it wasn't the time to think about things like that. Right now, all she wanted was answers. Still, she didn't need to see him _now, _she could wait until she had left the hospital, go see him when she didn't look so weak…

"Do you think you're ready for visitors, dear?" The nurse was continuing, with Lady only half listening. "Do you want me to send him in?"

She sighed. Who was she kidding? She was far too desperate for answers. She didn't want to wait. Plus, she knew she'd feel bad if she didn't let him in when he may have possibly saved her life. He deserved to see her, at least.

"Yeah," She said finally, sighing. "Yeah, you can let him in."

"Alright, I'll send him through. He'll be here in a moment."

She left after that, Lady looking down at herself. She shifted around in bed slightly, trying to sit straighter up. She realized the annoying _beep-beep-beep _of her heart had speeded up a little. She was nervous about Dante seeing her like this. She felt ashamed at the mere thought. She sighed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. If he could hear how nervous she was, that would only make it worse.

Still, the anticipation was getting to her, sitting and waiting for the door to re-open. She tried to focus on the quiet voices and hum of machinery around her instead. It seemed to take forever for the door to finally nudge open again, and sure enough, it was him.

Her first instinct was to avoid his gaze, but she ignored it, opting instead to stare him straight in the eye, trying to look as undefeated as possible. She had no idea what she really looked like at that moment, but as soon as he met her eyes, a look of relief spread over his face.

"Hey."

He began towards her bedside, where there was a plastic chair nearby. She followed his gaze, not wanting to be the first to break eye contact.

"Hey," she replied.

He sat down in the chair, and she noticed how out of place he looked. Here he was, with his black boots, long red trench coat, and white hair, sitting in a small blue chair next to a hospital bed. It was rather comical, really, but she didn't feel like laughing, especially when his eyes flicked down to her arm, with the drip stuck inside.

There was a bit of an awkward silence, and since he had averted his eyes, she finally brought hers down, as well. She felt her face burning, more shame washing over her than she had expected. God, he would never take her seriously again. Everything about this stupid hospital screamed of human frailty.

"You had me worried a while," he admitted, chuckling lightly and perhaps a bit nervously. She closed her eyes, feeling a bit overwhelmed, and let out a shaky sigh.

"I fucked up."

"No, you didn't. What happened wasn't your fault."

She didn't even really remember what happened, but it didn't matter. She shook her head, opening her eyes carefully. She was starting to feel like she was going to lose her composure any minute.

"You were right. I'm _human_. I shouldn't be doing this kind of thing."

"Hey, I never said you shouldn't hunt demons, just that you have to be more _careful_."

She shook her head, wanting to say more but her throat feeling too tight to risk opening her mouth. At her silence, he continued.

"Look…this demon, he – well, how much do you remember?"

She sighed. "Not that much," she managed to say.

"Well, he was a type I'd only heard of before but never seen. A soul-feeder. I wasn't prepared to deal with him, either. Those types are powerful because they can attack your mind, not just your body. They know exactly what makes you your most vulnerable, and they use it against you. He – "

"Wait." Lady interrupted. "Is he still alive?"

"No, he's dead. I took care of him."

She felt relieved at that, at least, and her curiosity began to return. "The last thing I remember is him doing something with…with my memories. What happened after that?"

Dante sighed. "Well, I showed up at some point while he was doing that to you. Once I came, he didn't really seem to care about you anymore. I don't know what he told you, but it was _me _he was really after."

She looked over at him again, and this time he was the one looking away, eyes downcast. Really looking at his face for the first time, she noticed he looked quite tired. Or maybe it wasn't tired as much as weary.

"Let me guess – he had a grudge against Sparda?"

Dante shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Point is, he got me with that mind fuck thing, too. I was just as unprepared for it as you. He could have killed me." He looked back up at her. "So don't go blaming yourself. It would have happened to anyone."

The thought that Dante had been subjected to the same thing as her did help her to feel a bit better, although still defeated and confused. She wanted the full details.

"So, why didn't he kill you?"

"Well…" he looked like he was about to say something, then paused, before opening his mouth again. "My devil trigger. I could use it to break out of the hold he put on me. Once I could surpass that, he wasn't any more advanced physically than your average, high-order demon."

Lady nodded. That still didn't explain, though…"Wait, so if he left me alone after you came in, and you killed him, what the hell am I doing here?"

Dante looked a bit uncomfortable again, avoiding her gaze, but then chuckled, attempting to make the mood more casual. "Well, the fucker wasn't content with just killing me. He wanted to piss me off."

"By hurting me?"

Dante nodded, still not looking at her. She felt herself warming a little. That demon…he knew how to find your biggest weaknesses and use them against you, as Dante had said. Did that mean she was one of his weaknesses? The thought made her nervous but somehow pleased at the same time. However, she decided not to comment on it, and quickly changed the subject.

"What exactly did he do to me?"

"He stabbed you with one of his claws. I'm not sure how deep it went."

She felt a bit pissed at that, but decided there was no point in holding a grudge since the asshole was dead anyway. "Well, I have stitches, anyway."

"Yeah. But you've gotten stitches before, right?"

She furrowed her brow. "No. What makes you think that?"

"Really?" He chuckled. "Guess you're just indestructible, huh?"

She scoffed. "Yeah, indestructible. Sure don't feel like it _now._"

"You okay?"

She let a small smile grace her features, looking over at him. He really _was _her friend, if nothing else. She owed him that much. "I'll be fine. And…thank you. For bringing me here."

His face seemed to light up slightly as she smiled at him. "Hey, that's what I'm here for." He seemed to remember something. "Oh, by the way, your weapons are at my place."

"Oh! Good. I forgot about those. That asshole, he took them right off of me while I was unconscious. Didn't even challenge me to a _real _fight."

Dante leaned back in the chair casually. It groaned under his weight. "Well, that's how you roll when your main attack is mental, I guess."

"Yeah. Although I think I caught a glimpse of him in his demon form, and it looked pretty intimidating to me."

Dante's brow furrowed. "You saw his devil form? He didn't trigger until after he attacked you."

She shrugged. "I must have been going in and out of consciousness. I remember a face, anyway, unless I just imagined it."

Dante shrugged. "Yeah, you probably saw him right after he attacked you. Your eyes were open then."

She shuddered. Even just the fuzzy mental image of the face she had seen gave her chills. "God, he just looked like…I don't know. Like nothing I've ever seen."

"Eh, I've never really seen claws quite like his, but beyond that, he wasn't that abnormal. There are lots of demons that have a bunch of eyes like that."

Lady's brow furrowed. "A _bunch_? I'm pretty sure I only saw two. I remember it was like they were glowing, too."

It was Dante's turn to look confused, and Lady continued searching through her memories, picturing the face. "The rest of his face was pretty dark, so they kind of stuck out. That's what I remember the most. I think he had red scales, too. God, it was just…" she shook her head. "I can't really describe it. Most demons don't intimidate me anymore, but he just had something about him. It was _freakish_."

She looked over at Dante expecting confirmation, and was a bit alarmed by the expression on his face. He was staring down again, and looked a bit sickened, and…hurt? What was wrong with –?

Suddenly, realization dawned on Lady, and with an incredibly cold, sinking feeling, her eyes widened. She felt her throat constrict slightly in both embarrassment and horror.

She recalled now that in her memory, the demon had been _carrying_ her. And Dante had said he'd been devil triggered most of the fight…

For a moment she could only lie there, frozen, not sure whether she felt more guilty or disgusted. But then she swiveled her head to look at him, guilt winning out for the moment.

"Dante," she said quietly, not sure whether she was more embarrassed for him or herself. "Dante, I…I'm _so _sorry, I didn't – "

"No, you don't have to say anything, babe." He chuckled, but didn't look at her. "I'm pretty hideous in devil form, huh? Good thing my human form is so pretty." He grinned at her, although it didn't carry to his eyes.

"Dante…" she couldn't seem to bring herself to say anything else.

He sighed, than stood. She looked up at him worriedly.

"Well, I should probably get going. Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I should probably get some sleep at some point tonight, but I'll check in tomorrow, okay?"

She sighed. She could keep apologizing all she wanted, but it was clearly a topic he wanted to ignore.

"Yeah. Okay."

He looked down at her, and his eyes looked duller than before. She felt worried and guilty, but couldn't seem to say anything else. He looked somehow gentle and sad. How could such a perfect face possibly transform into the hideous demon from her memory?

"Hang in there, Lady."

With that, he turned and left. She wanted to apologize again, but by the time she managed to get her mouth open, he was already out the door. She closed her eyes, feeling sick to her stomach.

The initial guilt was still there, but now that she didn't have to see the hurt look on his face, her disgust began to take over. _Horror _was more like it. She was horrified that that was what he really looked like, horrified that she had begun getting so close to him, horrified that she had _fucked _that…_thing_. _That_ was what she had lost her virginity to.

She brought her hand up over her eyes, squeezing them shut, and felt the sob building in her chest. She clenched her eyes shut, determined not to let anything come out past her closed lids, but tears calmly seeped their way through against her wishes. She wasn't exactly sure why she was crying. She figured it was a combination of a lot of things. How defeated she felt, how guilty she felt, both about what she had said in front of him and how disgusted thinking of him was making her feel, and possibly strongest of all, disappointment. There was no point in denying it to herself anymore. She was disappointed because she _was _starting to feel something for him, as much as she didn't want to admit it, and she knew deep down, she had wanted something to happen between them. And now, that would never happen, because she could _never _be with him knowing that that's what his true form looked like. He was a _demon_. She knew he was a demon before but he looked so human she hadn't fully grasped it, despite his ability to take bullets to the head and hardly flinch. But now…now she would always have that face in her mind, ruining any moments the two might have.

So she let the tears come out slowly, shuddering slightly, feeling more defeated than she had felt in a long time.

**[XXVI]**

He did come in the next day as promised, and neither of them brought up the conversation of the previous day, managing to keep the air casual, although they could both sense the tension hiding beneath the surface. Lady was stuck at the hospital a while longer than she normally would have been, due to having to answer the relentless questioning of the local police. That had all been very draining, especially since she had had to give them her real name. She _really _needed to get around to legally changing it sometime. She wanted Mary to be completely gone forever, to stop following her around like a ghost.

Thorough background checks and what seemed like a million questions later, it was agreed that all her possessions would be given back to her when she checked out of the hospital. Then she had to deal with the question of how she was going to pay for all this. She was wealthy at this point – she had quite a bit in the bank still, as well as all the money from demon hunting – but she was still going to be paying off the bills for a while. Finally, she had to deal with the stitches violating her insides. She was constantly sore, and couldn't really seem to move too much without feeling like something was going to fall out. She would have to come back to the hospital after awhile to get the outer stitches removed, but the internal ones were dissolvable. The nurse warned her how dangerous it would be if the internal ones came undone, so she needed to take it easy for at least a few months.

Taking it easy, of course, meant no demon hunting. This news only served to make her feel even more defeated and listless. There was _no way _she was taking a break for that long…

Dante continued to visit her, and when the day finally came that she was going to leave, she gave him the key to her hotel room – one of the few things from her pockets she had instant access to, sitting in a bin on the nightstand – and had him bring her back clothes to change into. Her old ones had been damaged beyond repair, of course, and she couldn't wait to get out of the stupid hospital gown. She also gave him the keys to her motorcycle so he could drive her back to the hotel and then his place to get her stuff. She wasn't exactly in a condition to be walking too far quite yet. As she waited for him to return, she imagined him rummaging through her suitcases, and was actually a little glad they had already been intimate with each other. It made the thought of him undoubtedly seeing her underwear less embarrassing.

When he came back and she was dressed and ready to finally leave, she got her weapons back, checked out, and the two headed for the parking lot where her bike was waiting. Her abdomen still felt sore just from walking. She felt a bit despairing as she thought about how long it would be before she really was able to hunt again. She might just have to ignore the pain and go back to work anyway.

"So how long are you stuck with the stitches?"

"Almost two weeks, then I have to come back and get them removed. But apparently the internal ones take forever to dissolve, and I'm supposed to take it easy for a few _months_."

"Months? That long?"

"Well, that's what they said, anyway, but I don't care. I can't go without demon hunting for that long."

He looked down at her. "Well, if that's what they told you, that's what you should do."

She shook her head. "I'll be fine. I still fought when my leg was damaged, and that ended up being okay."

He sighed, and it was his turn to shake his head. She looked sharply at him. "_What_?"

"You know, one of these days, you're going to get yourself _killed _because of that attitude. You're _not _invulnerable. I would have thought this would have made you realize that. I mean, what if I hadn't been there? What if I hadn't gotten to the hospital in time? Someday something could happen and I _won't _be there – "

"What, you don't think I know that I'm _human_?" She snapped, feeling defensive. "This whole thing has done nothing but remind me of that! I _know _I have to be careful, but I can handle myself. It's not like _you _really know anything about this, anyway."

As soon as she said that last sentence, some of the tension that had been hiding below the surface ever since that first night he visited came creeping back up. She looked over at him, and he looked pissed. He wasn't looking at her anymore. He shook his head again.

"Fine. Do whatever you want, Lady."

She sighed. She shouldn't have said anything in reference to him being a demon, but it just slipped out. Again, that image that had been haunting her every night since she entered the hospital flashed into her head, and she felt a bit sick. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to get past it, and that thought made her feel a bit hopeless.

They were silent as they made their way towards her bike, and avoided looking at each other. Once they finally reached it, she glanced over at him, and noticed his look of anger had faded into one of an almost defeated-looking melancholy.

She didn't say anything, simply waited for him to mount her bike, then got behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso in silence. They had agreed he'd be the one to drive, since they both would be riding and not only was it more proportional for her to be in the back, but it wouldn't be a good idea for his strong arms to be wrapped around her currently-delicate midsection. As the familiar roar of the bike's engine starting filled the air, and she held on tightly, her breasts pressed against his back and the look on his face stuck in her mind, she was hit with a revelation.

She felt sick when she thought of demons, sick and angry and vengeful. As a result, thinking of his demon form made her feel the same way, only worse, since she actually liked him and _didn't _want to think of him that way. What she hadn't been acknowledging was that thinking of demons made him feel just as sick and disgusted as _her_. He hated them just as much as she did. And…he _was _one.

He must have hated that part of himself, must have been ashamed of it. He probably felt _far _more sick and disgusted when thinking about his demon form than she could ever dream of feeling, and now that she had seen it, he felt even worse.

She stared at the sidewalk rushing by, breathing in the fresh air, feeling the warmth from his body, and her disgust was suddenly replaced by sympathy. She hadn't really thought about how awful he must feel about the whole thing, and she should have. She imagined how she would feel if _she _was a demon, the very thing she hated most, and she was overwhelmed by the urge to apologize to him. She would have had to shout to be heard over the buzz of the engine and the rush of the wind, so she kept her mouth shut, choosing instead to simply wrap her arms around him tighter, and not because she was in danger of falling off.

**[XXVI]**

After collecting her suitcases and checking out of the hotel, they headed back to Dante's place. When she walked into the now-familiar room, sure enough, she spotted her weapons, lying on the coffee table near that old, red couch of his. She walked over and picked up her handguns, inspecting them.

"Good. They appear to be in the same condition."

"Why wouldn't they be?"

"I don't know, they could have gotten damaged while you were fighting or something." She put down the smaller guns and went to lift Kalina Ann, and was alarmed to find that lifting such a heavy weight caused sharp pain to burst through her abdomen. She dropped it back down, crying out sharply in surprise.

"Ah!"

"You okay?"

She nodded, though didn't look at him, hunched forward slightly. "Yeah, just…hurting more than I thought it would."

"Maybe you should sit down."

She sighed, straightening up slowly as the pain subsided. "No, I'll be fine. Just have to get used to it, I guess."

"After awhile, maybe, but you should probably just rest for now."

She shook her head. "Can't. I should be getting back home."

He looked at her exasperated, and she groaned internally as she sensed another protest coming.

"You're not planning on staying here?"

"No. Even if I can't hunt right away, I should get home to catch up with any business I missed."

"What about getting the stitches taken out?"

She shrugged. "The appointment is almost two weeks away. I can just come back here then."

"If you can hardly lift that rocket launcher, do you _really _think you can drive a motorcycle with it slung on your shoulders for over an hour?"

She couldn't help but feel defiant, even though she knew he was probably right. "I – "

"And even if you can, do you really think you _should_? They told you to take it easy."

"I _know_, but I can't just lie on the couch all day!"

"That doesn't mean you should be traveling far or carrying heavy weaponry, either."

"You know, you really should stop telling me what to do."

She went to reach for her launcher to attempt lifting it again, and he grabbed her wrist. She looked up at him. He looked somehow calm and pissed off at the same time.

"Does the fact that I care about what happens to you not mean anything?"

She looked away, that statement seeming to soften her a little. She felt some of her feelings of sympathy return and she sighed.

"Okay. Maybe you're right. But what exactly do you expect me to do?"

"Stay here."

"I can't really afford more nights at the hotel at this point, being in the hospital is totally going to drain me as it is – "

"No. I mean _stay here_."

She raised her eyebrows slightly at the notion of living with Dante for a few weeks. He let go of her wrist, turning away from her slightly.

"I…don't know." She finally said.

He chuckled lightly, humorlessly. "Does the idea of staying here really bother you _that _much?" When she didn't answer, looking down at the coffee table, he continued. "I mean, I won't charge you anything, I'll let you sleep in my room, and I probably won't even _be _here half the time."

She sighed. "It's not that, it's just …" She trailed off. What _was _it, exactly? She wasn't even sure herself.

"I'm not gonna put moves on you, either, if that's what you're worried about."

She felt her face warming at that thought. "No! I wasn't…I mean…"

He was looking away from her, and she noticed he looked a bit…dull still. He probably still felt bad about this whole thing, and once again, her sympathy managed to overcome the disgust still lying dormant inside her. In fact, she was overcome by the urge to take him into her arms. She hated seeing him look that way. It was just…un-Dante-like. She almost snickered at the irony that she actually _didn't _like it when he wasn't being his over the top, obnoxious self.

She sighed, and sat on the couch. She still felt like she hadn't really apologized for the way she had talked about his demon side, or properly thanked him for saving her life. The _least _she owed him was to trust him enough to stay with him for a few weeks.

"You're right." She admitted. "I just…I wasn't thinking. I can stay here, if you don't mind having me for awhile."

He chuckled. "Wouldn't have offered if I minded."

She nodded, than sunk back into the couch. It _did _feel better sitting down.

"I'll get your stuff."

"You don't have to –" Too late. He was already headed out the door. He came back a moment later with her suitcases.

"Want these upstairs?"

She shook her head. "No, just leave them here for now."

He did that, setting them by the coffee table. She looked down at them, unable somehow to meet his gaze.

"Thank you." She said quietly.

"Anytime, Lady." He stood, straightening, and headed for his desk. "There's not much food here, but you can order take out. I've got a menu here somewhere. You can just put it on my tab if you want. I'm gonna head out for awhile."

"What? Where are you going?" She inquired, looking up at him finally. His back was to her.

"Just got some errands to run." He turned around to look at her. The spark in his eyes was still gone, and that was bothering her. She had agreed to stay with him, hadn't she? Why did he still look that way?

He walked a few steps closer. "You'll be fine, right?"

"Yeah, I promise not to go anywhere or lift anything heavy." She smirked.

"Okay. I'll be back in awhile."

Without so much as another word, he walked out the door, closing it behind him, and Lady found herself alone.

She didn't quite know how to feel. She got the vibe he didn't really have "errands", he was just looking for an excuse to leave. But why? Did he still feel bad about this whole thing? She sighed. She had no choice; she was going to have to talk to him about this later. They couldn't keep dancing around the issue and hinting at things. They would have to actually _talk _about it, like the adults they were supposed to be. But, she couldn't do that until he came back, and who knew when that would be. She found herself hoping it wouldn't be too long. It felt weird being in Dante's house without Dante himself.

She decided the first thing she should do was take a shower, and found his was much nicer than the ones at the hospital, despite the fact there was no curtain and a picture of a large-breasted woman was mounted on the inside of the bathroom door. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. _He probably jerks off in here every night,_ she thought with disgust, although the thought seemed to send a blush over her whole body.

The warm water was so relaxing that by the time she left the shower, she actually felt a bit sleepy. She decided to bring at least one of her suitcases upstairs and maybe lay down for a minute. She hauled the one with the most clothes up the cold steps without too much trouble, although she let it drag on the floor instead of simply carrying it in her arms. She still felt weak, and she hated it, but she was going to have to start getting used to it.

As soon as she entered the bedroom, she felt herself blush. Seeing as she had only been in here once, and considering what that one time had involved, that was the first thing she thought of. Trying to get the memories out of her head, she laid the suitcase near the foot of the bed. She was about to start unloading some of the clothes, but she was still a little sleepy, and the bed looked too damn inviting. Convincing herself it would just be for a minute, she laid down on top of the covers, her face buried in the pillow.

Only problem was, this bed _smelled _like Dante. She wasn't even really sure what his smell _was_, but this pillow definitely had it. She found herself not minding too much. She thought of how it had felt lying in this bed with his arms wrapped around her, and how it had felt with him being inside of her, and perhaps it was due to her sudden sleepiness, but the thoughts and the smell of him comforted her. Her eyes now closed, she let herself begin to fade away, not bothering to fight the thoughts in her head.

_Only a few minutes_, she thought. But a few minutes turned into a full-fledged sleep. Somehow, being in his bed seemed to lull her further into unconsciousness, and he was the main thing on her mind, right up until it shut down. His demon form didn't enter her thoughts at all.


	27. Battle Fatigue

**A/N: **There were a couple of scenes I had been planning on using in this chapter, but after seeing how long it was getting, I decided to stick them in the next chapter instead. Particularly, one of the fluffier moments between Dante and Lady has been moved to the next chapter, so you have to wait to see it. Sorry. =P The good news is that hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to get out, but don't hold me to that since I don't have the best track record of posting things on time. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

**_Chapter Twenty-Seven – Battle Fatigue_**

**[XXVII]**

When she woke, it was dark.

At first, she felt disoriented again, but it was only a few moments before she remembered where she was. She didn't even need to open her eyes – she recognized the feel and smell of the bed she was in. For a moment, she half expected to find Dante lying in bed next to her, but then she realized what had stirred her out of consciousness was the sound of the front door opening, followed by footsteps walking around downstairs. So clearly, unless someone had broken in, he was down there, not with her.

_Wait…_her foggy brain managed to think. _Did he just get home? Thought he was just going on errands…_

But she wasn't awake enough yet to investigate further…and apparently she wouldn't have to get up, because she suddenly heard the sound of heavy boots on the steps. They grew louder, until finally the door opened. She was facing away from it and for a moment didn't move, unsure of what he was doing. He walked near the bed, and then she heard a thud as he set something on the floor.

She shifted around, turning to face him and finally opening her eyes. He was mostly bathed in darkness, but she could see that he was setting the remainder of her suitcases near the bed.

"Dante?" She murmured quietly.

He seemed to pause a moment, but then stood up, arms now empty. "Go back to sleep, Lady." He mumbled, sounding a bit…off.

She yawned and arched her back, stretching. "I've been sleeping all day."

He didn't seem to have heard her, because as soon as he finished speaking he headed for the stairs. She sat up as she heard his retreating footsteps. Wait…did he just _ignore _her? Maybe he wasn't paying attention. Where the hell had he _been_? She was curious, so she slipped off the bed, ignoring the dull ache in her abdomen that was familiar by now, and followed him down the stairs. She entered the main room to see him slipping out of his trench coat, hanging it on the coat rack near his desk. He then headed for the couch. She folded her arms, feeling a lot more awake.

"Where have you been all day?"

He didn't answer her, and at his silence she continued, taking a few steps closer to him. "I thought you were going on _errands_."

"I did." His voice still sounded strangely off. He began undoing the straps on his vest, his back to her.

"Oh yeah? What did you buy?"

"Look in the fridge." He sounded tired.

A bit hesitantly, she made her way to the mini-fridge in the corner and opened it to find, not food, but a lot of…

"You were gone all day buying _beer?_"

"We were almost out." He slipped off his shirt now, dropping it to the floor, his bare back facing her. She walked closer still.

"Where _else _did you go?"

He paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder at her, before turning back around.

"Quit acting like my mother, Lady."

Her eyebrows rose a bit at that. What the _hell_ was wrong with him? Suddenly, it registered, seeming so obvious.

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

He didn't say anything, kicking off his boots. He then laid down on the couch, sighing. He didn't respond to her accusation. She began to feel a bit pissed.

"You know what, if you want to be stupid and waste the whole day in some bar, fine. But don't _lie _to me next time."

He brought an arm up, crossing it over his eyes. "Yell at me in the morning. I'm tired."

She was feeling disgusted at his behavior, and decided leaving him be might be the best thing for the moment. She had never actually seen him drunk before, and she didn't like it. She wasn't a big fan of alcohol herself, noticing how it often seemed to bring out the worst in people. His speech was slightly slurred, and it made him sound less strong, less in control of himself. She sighed, and then a thought suddenly registered.

Was this _her _fault? Was the reason he did this because he was still upset about her seeing his demon form…about what she had said? He _had _looked rather melancholy before he left, she remembered that much…

_No, _she mentally scolded herself before she could complete her guilt-tripping, _this has nothing to do with you. _Which may not have been entirely true, but what WAS true was that he was the one who had made the decision to go get drunk. It wasn't her fault he chose to deal with problems that way, if that was indeed what he was doing. She didn't need his bad decisions on her conscience.

Still, she couldn't help but feel a bit responsible, though she mostly felt annoyed and a bit pissed off at his antics. She stood there in the dark for a moment, arms folded, watching as he simply lied there, immobile except for the rise and fall of his bare chest. He actually looked a bit attractive like that, muscular arm still slung over his eyes, but she refused to dwell on _that _thought for very long. She felt more awake now, well-rested in fact, and certainly didn't feel like going back to bed. She looked out the long windows by the front door, imagined how good the crisp night air would feel on her face, and decided she felt more than well enough to go out for the night.

She walked over to the coffee table, watching Dante carefully as she picked up a few handguns and holstered them, half expecting him to hear her and protest, telling her she shouldn't leave the house, she needed to _rest_. He didn't move, however, and after checking to make sure her weapons were secured, she turned to leave. She doubted she'd actually run into anything, but she never left the house without _some _form of protection. Better safe than sorry. She had to admit to herself she really _hoped _she wouldn't run into anything, because she knew she still wasn't really in demon-hunting condition. But it was a risk she was willing to take; she couldn't stand being cooped up, especially with her only company being a currently drunken demon who was falling asleep.

**[XXVII]**

The sun was far too bright the next morning. At least, Dante thought so. He was convinced that the bright rays shining directly into his eyes were what had woken him. He brought his arm up, shielding himself. He felt groggy in an all too familiar way. His head pounded. After a few moments of drifting in and out of consciousness, he finally forced himself to wake up, rubbing his eyes and sitting up slightly.

It turned out he had gotten the worst kind of drunk – bad enough to wake up feeling like shit, but not bad enough to forget what had happened the previous night, which defeated the whole purpose. He sighed and then yawned, leaning back into the couch.

When he had left yesterday, truth be told, he hadn't even been entirely sure where he planned on going. He just knew he needed to get out of there. He felt different around Lady ever since seeing her reaction to his demon form. He felt so…exposed, like his most humiliating, hidden weakness had been brought out into the open with a spotlight cast on it, ready for her to laugh at and ridicule. Of course, she hadn't done that. The way she had reacted was worse – with fear and disgust.

Of course, she hadn't known it was him at first. She seemed to feel a little better about it now, judging by the fact that she had agreed to stay with him. It meant a lot to him that she at least trusted him _that _much. But although part of him was looking forward to her being around more, part of him felt weary at the very idea, because that meant he would also have to do a lot of avoiding.

He wasn't sure how much he could stand being around her. He knew that whenever she looked at him now, she was looking at him in a different way. She was undoubtedly picturing his demon form in her mind, probably trying hard not to visibly shudder just from thinking about it. She was privy to the thing he was secretly most ashamed of, the thing about himself he detested most. She would never look at him in the same way, and he was discovering that it hurt a little just being around her.

He was a fool for thinking anything could have ever happened. He was a goddamn _freak_, the very thing she despised most in the world. If she hadn't been entirely convinced before, she sure as hell was now.

Now, being near her just served to remind him that he was too much of a demon and not quite human enough to ever appeal to someone like Lady, and that he wanted something he couldn't have. And there was nothing worse than having something you wanted dangled in front of you but being unable to reach out and grasp it. It seemed cruel, almost, that he had gotten a taste of her, gotten _so close _to what felt like something meaningful, only to have it pulled away before it even really had a chance to begin.

So he knew there was no way he was spending that first night with her. He needed to go out and get some fresh air, have some time to himself, away from the almost smothering sense of vulnerability she somehow managed to fill him with now. And as he was walking away from his office, he knew what he needed to do – begin forgetting about her. Right now, it seemed an impossible task, especially since he felt he cared about her even more intensely ever since he had faced the serious possibility of losing her. But he knew it would pass eventually. It _had _to.

So he had headed to the nearest bar, fully intent on getting drunk and getting laid. He hadn't actually been with anyone since Lady, seeing as it hadn't been that long ago, and he figured the best way to start forgetting was to absorb himself in other women. Ones who didn't know his secrets, didn't know about what lurked beneath his handsome exterior. Ones who would gladly fuck him all night long, until he was so satisfied he forgot why he even wanted Lady in the first place.

So he had gone to the bar and started drinking. That much had gone according to plan. The place was a hotspot for singles, and there were plenty of attractive, available women who, he imagined, would have gladly jumped his bones given the chance. So that had gone according to plan, too. The problem arose when he realized that, even after drinking quite a bit, he didn't actually _want _any of them.

He was attracted to them in the most basic sense of the word. They had curves and pretty faces, so his body found them appealing. But he didn't actually WANT them. The more intoxicated he got, the more he imagined Lady. None of these bitches stood up. Their skin was too smooth, their make-up too well done, their hair too long and styled. He didn't want their manicured nails and high heels and conventionally pretty faces. He wanted a short girl, with scars and spiky hair and rough, dirty boots, with mismatched eyes and a face that was unusual but beautiful. The other girls were the type he had normally always been attracted to, but now he found it hard to see what he had ever liked in them to begin with. They were empty. They didn't have the spark that she did.

When it became apparent that no amount of alcohol was going to change his mind, he eventually decided to head back, figuring she'd be asleep. It was getting dark by then. On the way home, he somehow managed to fake coherence enough to buy beer from a nearby store, remembering that there wasn't a whole lot left at the house and having a feeling he'd be wanting some in the near future. Then he had headed back home, stocking it in the fridge before tripping over Lady's suitcases, still near his couch. He had brought them upstairs half to get them out of the way and half as an excuse to see how she was doing. Then, of course, she had woken up and gotten pissed at him. He didn't remember the exact details of their conversation, just that she had been yelling at him.

He sighed again, rubbing his temple, and glanced down at the table where her weapons were still resting. Then he froze. Wait. A few of her handguns were missing. _Shit, that means she left. _He didn't know why he was surprised at all – in fact, he wasn't, really – but he began to feel a bit worried. She was still weak from everything that had happened. He had no idea when she had left, but if it had been last night after talking to him, that was awhile ago. Why wasn't she back yet? Worst case scenarios started playing through his head and he began to feel a bit anxious. What if something had happened -?

As if on cue, the next moment his front doors opened and her familiar form came walking through, looking casual and completely unharmed. He wasn't sure if he felt more relieved or annoyed at her stubborn refusal to play things safe for once. She closed the door behind her, then turned and met his eye. Before he could say anything, a smirk played across her face.

"I'd say good morning, but since you undoubtedly have a hangover, it seems kind of pointless."

He couldn't help but snicker a little at that, although it didn't deter him from his main question. "Where'd you go?"

She was walking over to the table now, hands on the guns holstered to her hips, although she didn't remove them yet. When she stopped near the table, she was towering over him, and he could see the smirk in her eyes more clearly.

"On _errands_."

"Heh." So she wanted to play that game, did she? "Right. So, what'd you get me?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure you bought plenty of things for yourself last night."

"Hey, you're welcome to have some of it, too. I can share, you know."

She began unholstering her guns, placing the silver objects on the table with the others. The sun glinted off them.

"Thanks, but I don't really drink."

"Not even beer?"

She shrugged then, guns removed, and sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

"Not really." She continued. "I mean, I used to drink wine sometimes with my parents, and I got drunk once or twice with my friends when I was younger, but that's about as far as that goes. I stopped drinking hard stuff pretty fast after seeing what idiots my friends were when they were drunk. Plus, hangovers weren't exactly fun."

He just sat there for a moment and realized something. She was talking openly about her past. Nothing too personal, but still.

"And I know beer isn't _hard stuff_, but I don't really see the point." She continued.

He didn't say anything for the moment, still tired and still wondering at the fact that she seemed to be talking more candidly with him than normal. At his silence, she shrugged and leaned forward to begin unlacing her boots. He simply watched her for a moment, watching her slender fingers work the laces, observing the almost gentle side profile of her face, before speaking up again.

"So where _did _you go?"

"Nowhere, really." The left boot was done. She began on the other.

"You were out all night, weren't you?"

"Yeah." She shrugged. "Mostly just wandering the town. I stopped at a diner for awhile. Was tempted to join a poker game going on there, but they were too far into it. Too bad, I could use all the money I could get right now."

"You play poker?"

"Of course. You?"

"'Course."

A small smile graced her features. "We should play sometime."

Both boots undone, she slipped her slender legs out of them and curled them underneath her on the couch. His eyes roamed over the milky skin of her thighs, the rest of her legs obscured from his view by dark knee socks.

"Yeah, we should." He said quietly, then looked away from her, trying to focus on something else. His eyes fell on his pool table, which inspired an idea. "You know what you should do? Hustle people in pool halls. I bet you'd make a ton of money."

She smirked. "That's not a bad idea."

"Yeah. I'd love to see you show up some of the assholes that hang around there."

She didn't say anything at that, just continued to look amused at the idea, and they fell into a silence. She was looking down at the coffee table, away from him. She looked small curled up like that, and he wanted so badly to hold her in his arms, have her curled up against his chest. He wasn't feeling as awkward around her as before, surprisingly, but the stab of longing he felt while looking at her was almost painful.

She looked back up suddenly, and he glanced away quickly.

"So. Where did _you _go last night?" Her tone was accusing.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Where do you think?"

"Some seedy bar, most likely."

"Hey, Joey's isn't that seedy."

"_All _the bars around here look seedy."

"Have you ever even been inside any of them?"

"Don't need to. I can _hear _the inside just walking by."

That was probably true. He didn't say anything, stretching.

"Do you go there a lot?"

He shrugged. "Now and then."

She eyed him a moment before continuing, almost a bit hesitantly, it seemed. "Why'd you go last night?"

He started to feel a bit awkward again. She _knew _why. As if he was going to verbalize it.

"Because I _wanted_ to." He smirked.

She rolled her eyes, but he didn't really care. He wasn't in the mood to have uncomfortable conversations with her.

"No, why did you _really _go?"

He sighed. "What do you want me to say, Lady?"

"The truth."

"The truth is that I wanted to go, so I went."

"Why did you _want _to?"

"Because it's fun."

She was starting to look annoyed. "Why did you lie and say you were going on _errands _if the only reason you wanted to go was because it's _fun_?"

Now _he _was starting to look a bit annoyed, he imagined. "Why do you care?"

"Because if I'm going be staying here for two weeks we have to actually _talk _to each other! And I mean _really _talk, being _honest_."

"I _am _being honest, Lady."

She shook her head. "You know what I mean. Not just telling the truth, but not…hiding things."

He couldn't help but let out a small laugh, rather devoid of humor. "Wait a minute. You're telling _me _not to hide things? Christ. I didn't think you were that hypocritical."

Her face contorted into a harsh scowl, but she also blushed. Well, it was true. _She _was the one who was constantly closing herself off. Just because that was apparently beginning to change a little bit didn't mean it hadn't happened.

Before she could respond, the phone rang, interrupting the sudden tension. Dante had never been happier to hear it ring. He stood, walked over to his desk, and picked up the receiver.

"Devil May Cry."

"Yes, hello." A voice responded from the other end. "My name is David Beaumont. I – oh. The password is, um, 'jackpot'."

Dante sat down at his desk, propping his feet up out of habit. "What can I do for you?"

Apparently David Beaumont owned a business near the edge of town, selling building supplies. He also had apparently gone into work that morning to find a couple demons trashing the place. Sounded simple enough. Easy money was definitely something he was in the mood for, seeing as his last job had been way too challenging – not to mention emotionally draining – for no pay. He agreed to be over soon.

"What's up?" Lady asked as soon as he hung up.

"A couple lower-level demons on the edge of town. Nothing serious." He reached over and grabbed his coat off the hook, not bothering to put a shirt on, then walked over to step into his boots.

She nodded, then looked down at her guns. "Guessing I can't come and at least _watch_, huh? Too _dangerous_?"

He sighed. Why was she so pissed about him trying to _help _her? God. "Do whatever you want, Lady. Doubt this will be worth your time, though. It'll probably be in and out. Not much of a show."

"Yeah." She agreed quietly.

She didn't say anything else, looking down at the coffee table but glancing up at him every so often as he grabbed his weapons and holstered them. Once he was ready to go, he paused for a minute, waiting to see if she would say something. When it remained silent, he headed for the door.

"I'll be back later."

He had just put his hand on the door when she spoke up from behind him.

"We should talk when you get back. Okay?"

He paused a moment, looking down. He did not want to talk about this shit. But he simply said, "Yeah, okay" a bit half-heartedly, and left.

**[XXVII]**

Needless to say, he didn't come back until long after the amount of time it should have taken to kill a couple of lower-level demons on the edge of town. Lady wasn't really surprised, although a bit disappointed. After a few hours, she figured he should have _definitely _been done with the mission, unless something had gone wrong. That was a possibility, but she had a feeling it was more likely that he was still continuing to avoid the house.

It felt as though the roles had been reversed slightly. For once, she was beginning to attempt to be a little more open with him, realizing how important it was for them to be honest in order for this whole fiasco to get resolved. He, on the other hand, was the one choosing to close himself off now. However, this was only her second day; she still had a long time before her appointment at the hospital. If she really stayed here that long, she'd have plenty of time to try and talk to him.

Of course, if he continually avoided her that might be easier said then done.

The morning passed simply enough. She was admittedly rather sore from all the walking she had done, not to mention a little tired from being out all night, so for the moment she was content to stay inside. After he left, she headed over to his desk to search for a menu, remembering he had said something about take-out the night before, and he didn't exactly have much worth eating in his fridge. She found several menus after much rummaging around, and decided to go with Chinese. She considered ordering something for him at first, thinking at that time he'd be back in an hour or so, but wasn't sure what he liked so decided against it.

While she was waiting for the food to arrive, curiosity got the best of her and she looked around his desk a bit longer. He had told her to find the menu on it, which was buried under things, so it wasn't like she was really _snooping _or anything. The contents of the cluttered desk itself were rather uninteresting. Magazines, menus from various restaurants, bills, office supplies, papers full of appointments and contact information. Nothing she wouldn't expect. One thing caught her eye, however, and after a moment of glancing at it, she finally picked it up, staring deeply into the frame.

The picture was of a beautiful woman, with fair skin and long, blonde hair. For a moment she was confused as to whom it could be, but then it hit her in a flash.

His mother.

The resemblance was there a little. And who else could it be, really? She had a youthful face, but at the same time it was clear she was closer to middle-age. It was a bit of a contrast to see the beautiful picture in a clean, shiny frame sitting on his desk next to the cluttered mess of everything else. Everything else in his whole _house, _in fact. He was a slob, so the fact that the picture was sitting there so neatly spoke volumes. It made a strange sort of warmth overtake her whole being, and she set it back down carefully.

Seeing the picture only seemed to fuel her curiosity more. She desired to know more about him, see what other things his home could tell her about his hidden depths. When she was in the bathroom later, she slipped open his medicine cabinet, feeling nosy but curiosity getting the best of her. There was nothing of any particular interest in there. It was all standard bathroom things – toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, razor, shaving cream, comb, cologne, mouthwash, etc. The only thing missing, of course, was anything pertaining to actual medicine. Beyond that, it looked exactly like the medicine cabinet you'd find belonging to any young adult male.

He had powerful weapons mounted on his walls, and the skulls of demons mounted as trophies. But beyond that, everything in this house simply reeked of _human_. She imagined his demon form again, and couldn't seem to wrap her mind around the fact that that was really _him, _that the person who owned this perfectly normal bathroom and kept a picture of his (very human) mother on his desk was something so disgusting in his true form. She closed the cabinet door shut, and her own guilty expression stared back at her from the mirror. He _wasn't _disgusting. He was part demon, yes, but he couldn't help it, and it didn't _matter_. It was who he _was _that mattered, and who he was was human through and through.

It settled over her almost like an epiphany. It didn't matter. It just…_didn't_. It was as simple and obvious as that.

She wanted to make it clear to him that she had finally realized this, but she couldn't do that until two things happened – he came back, and he agreed to talk to her. Long after she had eaten and stuck leftovers in the fridge, he still wasn't back. She sighed. She supposed she couldn't expect him until it was dark, just like last night. Feeling disappointed and a bit restless, she left the house again, not sure where she was going but needing fresh air.

The afternoon passed uneventfully. She didn't see Dante anywhere. She half thought to check some of the bars she passed, but she didn't feel like going inside to see a bunch of drunken people acting like fools, especially since some of the inebriated men would undoubtedly try to put moves on her. She hoped he wasn't there, anyway. Her most interesting stop was at the same ammunition place she had seen awhile ago when she had been staying at the hotel. She got to actually have a serious conversation with the man who owned the place about demons and how often they seemed to come to this town, which at least served as a distraction for a while.

When she went back to the house, it wasn't dark yet, but it was late in the afternoon. She hoped she'd find him sitting at his desk when she walked in, but the house was still empty. She sighed, feeling guiltier by the moment. She figured he was avoiding her because he didn't want to talk to her, undoubtedly because he felt more uncomfortable around her ever since seeing her reaction to his demon form. She was ready and willing to apologize, to tell him it didn't matter to her anymore, but she couldn't do that unless he was _there_.

She sat down on the couch, removing her boots and feeling tired and sore in a way that was too familiar by now. She was especially tired because she'd been up all night _and _afternoon, and before she knew what hit her, she had fallen asleep.

A few hours later, when it was getting dark outside, she was woken by the sense of someone being near her. He wasn't making any noise; he was just close enough to set her senses on alert. She was only half-conscious until she felt something warm and soft envelop her. She blinked her eyes open to discover a blue blanket on top of her and a form towering over her, holding a pillow in one hand.

"Dante…?" She asked sleepily.

"Shhh." His arm reached forward and gently took hold of her shoulder, lifting her off the couch just enough to slip the pillow beneath her head. "Go back to sleep, Lady."

Resting her head on the soft pillow felt much better than leaning it against the leather armrest, and she immediately felt sleep pulling her back down. Her eyes closed, but she managed to speak the question that immediately sprang to mind.

"Where've you been?"

"We'll talk tomorrow morning, okay?"

She sighed, but nodded against the pillow. "Just don't leave this time."

There was silence following her words, until she heard him walking away and then up the stairs. It wasn't long before the world faded away again, although she managed to feel amused at the thought that he had basically just tucked her in. The thought also seemed to make the pit of her stomach flutter slightly.

**[XXVII]**

"The mission _did _end up being more complicated than I thought it would be," Dante said the next morning, sitting across from her on the coffee table, one of his feet casually propped on the opposite knee. She was sitting up, the blanket he had put over her the night before still draped over her lap. Both of them were drinking coffee, which she had made upon waking the next morning. One useful thing he did have in his house was a coffee machine. She had woken a good deal earlier than him, and decided coffee was a good idea for both of them. Upon hearing his feet clunking down the stairs and seeing him emerge, hair tousled and lacking a shirt, she had shoved a mug of it into his hands with a simple "Here," followed by the even more simple "Sit" as she walked back towards the couches.

"A couple demons turned out to be more like twenty. Turns out the guy has a portal _right _behind his building. Poor bastard." Dante took a sip of the coffee, still looking tired. "After I killed the first couple, more kept showing up. They were easy enough to kill, but there were a lot of them. Eventually they just stopped coming, but the portal is still there."

"Is there a way to close it?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure how, exactly. Some sort of magic ritual."

"Maybe you should look into that."

He shrugged. "Well, I told the guy to let me know if any more show up, and if they do, maybe I'll close it for him. He'd probably pay me extra for that. For now it shouldn't be too big of a deal. There are portals all over the place and it's not like demons constantly pour out of all of them at once. But I'll have to keep tabs on it, anyway, because that one's in a pretty populated area."

Lady nodded, staring at the ground. She wasn't glad to hear the news, but was admittedly a bit glad that part of why he had been gone so long was the mission, and not just him avoiding her.

"So." She took a sip of coffee. "I'm guessing the mission isn't what kept you out _all _day. Where else did you go?"

He smirked. "You keeping tabs on me?"

She frowned. "I don't really _care _where you go. It's none of my business. What I care about is I think you're avoiding me on purpose."

His smirk faltered as he glanced away from her. He didn't say anything, so she sighed and spoke up.

"Look, Dante…" She wasn't entirely sure where to begin. "I know this has to do with me seeing your demon form." He didn't say anything, but by the somewhat bitter look on his face she guessed she was on track. "And I just want you to know that I don't _care _about that. It…doesn't bother me."

He chuckled lightly, humorlessly. "Sure seemed to bother you when you were talking about how freakish it was."

"That was before I realized it was you! If I had known I wouldn't have said that."

"Maybe not, but you would have still _felt _it."

She was silent a moment. That was probably true. She almost protested, saying she wouldn't have felt that way, but she knew that'd probably be a lie, and her goal was to have them actually be _honest _with each other.

"Fine. Maybe I would have. But only because I wasn't expecting it. I mean…I guess…" She laughed a bit at the irony. "I guess I don't really think of you as a demon any more."

He paused a moment, as if trying to determine whether she was really serious, but then looked away. "Well, that doesn't change the fact that I am one."

"It doesn't matter. I don't _care_."

He looked up at her.

"I just…" She struggled with how to word it exactly. "I know when we first met, I couldn't focus on anything except that, but with everything that's happened since then, I mean…you're _not _a demon. You're a better person than most of the humans I know. You're…" She found the words hard to say, feeling like she was getting too personal now, but she forced herself. "You're the only person I can say I'm friends with. I trust you. And I know you're technically half-demon, but it just doesn't _matter_. Okay?"

She dared to look up at him, and a small smile formed on his face. There was still something a bit sad about him, but at least his eyes were warm.

"Thanks, Lady. That means a lot."

She smiled. "Good."

It should have been as simple as that, but he still seemed off a little.

"Is something else bothering you?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Just tired."

She had a feeling there was more to it than that, but decided not to press the issue for the moment.

"Okay. So you're not gonna avoid me anymore, right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, babe."

Things seemed to grow more comfortable between them then, at least in Lady's perspective. She felt as if a bit of a weight had been lifted off her chest, and was glad things were finally out in the open. True to his word, Dante seemed to hang around a lot more that day. Any conversation that happened between them after that point was much more casual and less personal. He was in and out a little, but it wasn't until the evening that he left for awhile. He got a call in the late afternoon. It turned out the portal behind the building supply store _was _more to worry about than he thought, because more demons were apparently congregating there.

"Better go take care of 'em, and should probably start looking into how to close that portal." He said after he explained to her what was going on.

"Want me to go down to the library, start doing some research?" She offered.

He shrugged. "If you want to."

She sighed. "I just want to do _something. _It's killing me to know demons are nearby and I can't do anything. Hopefully everything's okay back in my town." She looked a bit wistful, and he imagined how frustrating it must be, wanting to do something but your body not letting you.

"Try not to worry too much, okay babe?" He grabbed Rebellion from the wall and headed for the door. "And don't wait up for me; I'm not sure how long this will take."

She smirked. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it."

The truth was he didn't really think the mission would take too long, but regardless of how long or short it was, he was fully intending on heading back to Joey's once it was over. He hadn't gone the night before and was already feeling overdue. Lady's little confession had made him feel warm, but he still felt…off. Off enough that he felt getting a little drunk after taking out some demons before heading home for the night was more than justified.

It turned out the demon-killing didn't take very long, but nonetheless, by the time he was done, he was a bit sweaty and dirty. He didn't want to go home and shower because Lady might still be up, and then wonder where he was heading back out to. His goal was to stay out until she was asleep and then come home. Joey's was hardly a swanky place, but it still wasn't nearly as sleazy as some of the other places he frequented. He felt like being left alone, so he figured the sleazier the place, the less likely he would be to draw attention for his currently unkempt appearance.

Love Planet it was, then.

A strip club was an especially good place to remain unnoticed, seeing as most of the people there would only be concerned with the main attractions. Some of the girls might bother him (especially since he had slept with about half of them before), but if he was off at the bar, far from the main stage, they might not notice him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. He was actually thinking of strippers giving him attention as _bothering _him? What the fuck was wrong with that picture? Some heavy drinking was definitely in order.

The club was so crowded that night that he managed to slip in relatively unnoticed, despite his trench coat and the large sword attached to his back. He'd been in here plenty of times and could practically navigate the place with his eyes closed. For once, he didn't focus on the main stage, choosing instead to slink off to the bar in the back, which was mostly empty. People didn't exactly go there to drink; at least they didn't go _mainly _for that reason. So he had the area mostly to himself.

He was left alone for about fifteen minutes. He had a bit of a buzz going at that point, letting himself get absorbed in the bright colors of the club and the techno music, which seemed to be pulsing inside of his head. He could see the girls from a distance, but didn't pay them much attention. He tried to pick out the ones he had slept with before, but their images blurred together and they all looked the same to him. They all _were_ the same as far as he was concerned.

"Hey! Dante!"

Dante turned around at the familiar voice calling his name, recognizing it immediately. Sure enough, he could make out the short Italian man coming towards him.

"Yo, Enzo."

Enzo approached the bar, taking a seat next to him. He motioned to the bartender, who began mixing him a drink without a word spoken between them. Enzo was a regular at every bar Dante had ever seen him drink at.

"How you been, kid? It's been almost a whole damn month since I seen ya anywhere."

"I know. Bet you've missed seeing my handsome face, huh?"

"Still a smartass, I see." His drink arrived and he wasted no time in chugging some of it down.

"And you're still a creepy strip club patron, I see."

He put the glass down with a clink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Hey, you and me both."

"Nah, I don't count because I'm young and attractive."

"Hey, some of the girls here happen to _dig _me."

Dante snorted, shaking his head. "I haven't drunk nearly enough to believe that yet."

Enzo grumbled. "Yeah, whatever." He took another drink, then let out a satisfied sigh. "So how's business been?" The two hardly worked together anymore; it had been quite a while since Enzo had given Dante any jobs. He didn't really need to since people seemed to find him on their own now.

"Been good."

"Good, huh?"

"Yep. Peachy."

"Hmm." He sounded as though he didn't quite believe him.

"What about you?"

"Eh, same old, same old. Never any new recruits in this godforsaken town. Just been working with the same bastards as usual."

"Mmm." Dante made a non-committal noise as he downed another shot.

"But, I had the night off, and figured what better way to spend it, huh?"

Dante snorted into his drink. _Night off. _Like he was _so _busy.

"Booze and hot chicks. What more could a man want?" Dante didn't say anything, opting instead to take a rather long swig of his drink, but he almost spit it out when Enzo elbowed him roughly in the ribs. "See what I mean? One of 'em's coming over here."

Dante glanced in the direction he was looking and saw that, indeed, a tall, shapely woman was making her way over to the bar. It took Dante a moment, but he realized he recognized her. Yep, they'd screwed at some point. He tried to remember her name.

"Dante!" She exclaimed as she drew nearer, then proceeded to wrap her arms around his shoulders when she got close. Dante gave her a half-hearted hug back. She smelled good, at least. "Ooh, I thought I recognized you! No one has hair like yours, I could see it a mile away." She giggled.

"Nice to see you, babe."

Her eyes flicked over to Enzo, who was staring at her excitedly. "Oh, is this your friend?"

"Don't tell me you've never met Enzo. He's here all the time."

"We must have missed each other." Enzo spoke up in his "smooth" voice. Dante tried not to snicker. "I'm sure I would have remembered such a pretty face."

The girl giggled and extended a slim hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Stacy."

_Stacy_. That was her name.

"Enzo Ferino. And the pleasure's all mine."

She giggled again, withdrawing her hand and bringing it to rest instead on Dante's shoulder. "Well, I can't stay long. Just wanted to say hi." She leaned closer to Dante, who was staring down at his drink, and lowered her voice. "My shift is over in a half hour. Do you wanna meet me after?" She leaned forward, casually linking her arms around his shoulders, her lips next to his ear. "You know, for old time's sake."

He _should _have said yes. Getting laid was just what he needed, and a beautiful, sexually advanced woman was offering herself to him. He would have been a damn _fool _not to say yes.

"Sorry, babe." He found himself saying instead, taking another drink. "Not tonight."

He felt her stiffen slightly next to him in surprise, and although he didn't look to the side, he could sense Enzo's incredulous gaze drilling into him.

"Are – are you not feeling well?" She asked, confused.

"You could say that." She didn't need to know it was impossible for him to get sick.

"Oh…" She straightened then, taking her arms away from him. "Okay. Well, I – I should get going." She leaned forward then and kissed him on the cheek. "Feel better soon." She offered a fluttery wave to Enzo. "It was nice meeting you." She turned then, disappearing into the crowd.

Dante took another swig, not looking at Enzo, who was still staring at him in amazement. He decided not to say anything and see how long it took before one of them was forced to speak up.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

Apparently not long.

"If I'm not mistaken, she was _asking _you to jump in the sack with her. Do you know what I'd give to have strippers coming up to _me _with free invitations? Do you?"

Dante smirked. "I thought you said chicks here _dug _you."

Enzo grumbled. "Yeah, yeah. Still, you're outta your mind to pass up an offer like that."

"Yeah, well, if you think she's so great, why don't you go after her? You got a half hour 'till her shift ends."

"You know what? Maybe I will." He finished the glass in his hand, slamming it down rather loudly. "Don't know what's wrong with _you, _but _I'm _getting laid before this night is over."

Dante snorted. "Good luck with that."

He hopped off the barstool, beginning to head in the direction Stacy had gone. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you around, kid."

"See ya."

Dante watched as Enzo disappeared, finding himself alone again, and wondering if he really was out of his mind. Rejecting an attractive woman was something he would _never _normally do. But the idea of being with Stacy, or any of the other girls at the club, just wasn't appealing. He imagined holding her in his arms, being forced to make small talk, pretending he actually _cared _about her. It made him feel empty, because the truth was he didn't give a shit about her, or any of the other girls he had ever been with in the past. The only appealing part would be the sex itself, and even the idea of _that _wasn't appealing because he knew, he just _knew, _it would not be as good as it had been with Lady, and that would be all he'd be able to focus on.

He was beginning to get angry at himself for the way he was letting her control him. She wasn't even trying to _do _anything. Hell, she had been trying to make him feel _better_. And her sitting him down and giving him her little confession should have done that. If she truly didn't care about his demon half, there was a chance things might actually, possibly, work out between them. He had no reason to feel so bad about it.

Truth was, though, he knew that it _did _matter to her. She may have said it didn't, may have even sincerely believed it didn't, but that didn't make a difference. The fact was that if she happened to get a glimpse of his form again, another harsh reminder of what he really was, they would go right back to where they started. She could say whatever she wanted, but it would bother her, and considering what an integral part of him his demon half was (whether he liked it or not), there was no way they could be together with it completely pushed to the background and out of sight. It would continue to rear its ugly head, pushing them further and further apart until the bond between them finally broke.

The thought that he could never be with her, never find out all there was to know about her and have something in his life that felt deep and meaningful for once, was an unhappy one. But the idea of being with her and then, just as they were getting close, having it ripped away as she became too uncomfortable, too disgusted with him to continue…well, that was a much worse thought.

"Hey, barkeep," he called out to the man standing with his back to him, wiping the inside of a glass with a white cloth. "Hit me again."

The man turned around, glancing at him briefly before doing as he was told. "Hope you got enough to cover all this, buddy."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't you worry about me."

"Ain't you I'm worried about, it's your tab."

"Calm down, I'll pay ya, don't worry."

The bartender grumbled, but slid the drink over to him. Truth was he probably shouldn't have been out, wasting his money, but seeing as it had been a few months since he'd gone on steady drinking binges, he figured he could afford it. And he had no choice; he needed to start reverting to the way things were before. The way things had been before Lady had come into his life, or at least before she had started playing such a big role. Back to when the idea of developing any sort of feelings for someone was a laughable notion.

Of course, it had been bound to happen sooner or later. It had happened to his father, after all. He just didn't think it would have hit him so _soon. _He wasn't even _twenty _yet. That's why this had to be a fluke, some sort of youth-induced phase. He must have been mistaking infatuation, or lust, or _something _like that, for feelings of genuine care and affection. He couldn't really be feeling that way about someone, not when he was so young, not when they didn't even know each other that well.

So why did she seem so _different_, then? Why did she stand out like a beacon in his mind? Nope…there was no use trying to fool himself. The best thing to do was accept the situation, then forget about it, and damn it if this very bar wasn't going to help him do just that. Hell, he was feeling more like himself already, minus the whole rejecting-hot-strippers thing.

As he downed another shot, he couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at the irony that the one human girl capable of handling him just had to have her childhood destroyed by members of his race.


	28. Papercut

**A/N: **So…what does one say after disappearing for half a year? I can sense the awkward, expectant silence all the way across the internet. Anyway, I'm going to skip the feeble excuses about real life and boo hoo and just say that I'm REALLY sorry about taking so long to update! I really am! I feel bad, and I hope my feeling bad brings you satisfaction. One of the reasons it took so long is because this chapter turned out to be far longer than I expected, so it is pretty lengthy. Hopefully that is a good thing. I probably could have edited it a BIT more but I'm eager to get this thing out. You will be pleased (or maybe not) to learn that there are only two chapters left after this, and the last is mostly an epilogue (in other words, there are only two more waiting periods before it all ends). Thanks so much to anyone who hasn't given up on reading this! I really hope you enjoy this chapter and I'm pretty sure the next update won't take so damn long. (P.S. – the "closet" thing Lady discovers was inspired by the DMC manga, just to give a better visual to anyone who's read that).

* * *

**_Chapter Twenty-Eight – Papercut_**

**[XXVIII]**

The ensuing days passed more smoothly, in Lady's opinion, than the first few had. She found living at Dante's place to be much less awkward than she initially thought it would be. Now that they'd sorted things out, more or less, things didn't feel weird between them. It was true he was gone half the time, but when he was there, she found herself enjoying his company. Secretly, seeing him and being in his house (especially his bed) sometimes brought about feelings of, well, _wanting _him, but she tried not to focus on those, reminding herself that they had already tried that. If they wanted to stay friends, it wouldn't be a good idea to try again.

She was doing a good job of distracting herself, attempting to keep her mind off of not just him, but her currently weakened state. Wanting to do _something _helpful, she had been spending more time at the library, researching demons and old magic rituals. She had checked a handful of the books out and they were currently sprawled on the coffee table, ancient tomes with worn yellow pages. That current evening, not quite a week after she had first started living there, she was sitting on the couch, one of the books in her lap, reading intently. Back when she had been Mary and her life had still been normal, she had enjoyed reading, doing it often in her spare time. She almost never had time to do it any more, so she was almost glad for the opportunity to spend a few hours getting lost in a book, especially one on a topic she was interested in studying.

Dante was out, as usual. He seemed to be out most nights, although ever since they had been on better terms, she'd stopped asking where he went. It wasn't any of her business, really. She would be lying if she said she wasn't curious, but she felt like she was intruding on his privacy enough by sleeping in his bed, sharing his bathroom, and eating his food, so she felt asking wouldn't be appropriate. It was hardly as if she minded alone time, anyway. On the contrary, she found it comforting in its familiarity.

It was soon after it had gotten dark enough for her to turn the lights on that she got company. Things were apparently pretty slow at Devil May Cry, because people didn't seem to come in too often. She answered the phone when he was away, but it hadn't rung all night. She looked up from her book at the sound of the front door opening, and was surprised to see a familiar figure.

"Dante!" A loud voice called out. The man stepped inside, the door closing loudly behind him. "Dante, you in here?"

Although she hadn't seen him for five months, she recognized him as the man who had let her and Dante borrow his car. He looked around a moment before his eyes fell on her, and when they did, they widened in surprise.

"Hey! Long time no see! Dante's devil hunting friend, uh…what was your name again?"

"Lady."

"Ah yeah, that was it. Knew it was something strange. No offense."

She smirked. "None taken. 'Enzo' is a pretty strange name, too."

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah." He looked around the room again. "Dante around anywhere?"

"No, he's out."

"Any clue when he'll be back?"

"No idea."

Enzo grumbled, walking towards the couch. "Figures. First time I have news for him in months, and he ain't here."

"What's up?" She asked curiously.

"Strange case. There's this wealthy bastard, lives a ways down from here, convinced his mansion is haunted. Expensive shit randomly breaking, dogs barking at nothing, he even thinks his daughter's possessed. They've brought in priests and everything, but nothing's worked. He's offering a pretty hefty reward to anyone who can go in and exorcise the place. Now I don't know if anything supernatural's really going on, but Dante was my main guy who always dealt with that kinda shit. Figured I could get him to go play ghost buster and make us a nice profit."

Lady's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Sounds interesting."

Enzo took a seat on the nearby armchair. "Sounds like some freaky shit if you ask me, but those were the kinds of jobs Dante always wanted."

"How often do you and Dante work together?"

"Not often anymore. Hardly ever, really. He's makin' it on his own these days. Don't need me anymore. As for me, I got a couple other guys willing to deal with less paranormal jobs, so the two of us don't see much of each other anymore."

She nodded, looking down at the pages of the book in front of her. "How long have you two known each other?"

"Well, I met him when he first made his way to this city. God, that was…four years ago, I think. He was about fifteen or so. Pretty messed up kid at the time, I have to tell ya."

Lady tried to imagine a younger teen version of Dante and wondered what he would have been like. Even cockier than he was now? More angst-ridden? A weird combination of both?

"So." Enzo interrupted her thoughts. "How long have you been waiting for him?"

"Oh, I'm not waiting for him."

She looked back up at the man, whose brows furrowed. "Huh? Whatchya doing here, then?"

"I'm living here right now."

She said it without thinking, but the moment the phrase left her mouth she realized she may have just walked into a potentially awkward conversation. Enzo's eyebrows disappeared beneath the brim of his hat and there was a momentary dead silence.

"_Living _here? With Dante?"

She opened her mouth, ready to explain that it wasn't what he was thinking, but paused as his look of surprise suddenly turned into one of comprehending something. Then he laughed, furthering her confusion even more. "Ha! That explains it, then!"

Her brow furrowed. "Explains what?" She asked cautiously.

His eyes were shining, like he'd just gotten the punch line to a joke. "Few nights ago I ran into Dante at Love Planet, and he totally turned down this hot stripper who was putting moves on him. I thought he'd finally lost it, but it makes sense now. Hope you don't mind me saying, honey, but if I had you to come home to, I wouldn't be wasting time with those bimbos, either."

Her eyes widened slightly and she blushed. She felt a bit disgusted by the older man's apparent willingness to do her, but more than that she felt the need to explain.

"No, it's – it's not like that!"

He looked confused again. "Huh?"

"Me and Dante, we're not…together. Almost a week ago, I got hurt during a fight. I have stitches, and Dante's letting me stay here until I have to get them removed so I don't have to travel back and forth."

There was a pause. "So, what, you're trying to tell me he's just being a Good Samaritan?" He sounded skeptical.

"Well, yeah."

Enzo looked even more perplexed now, and there was another silence while he tried to ponder the situation.

"He hasn't tried to put moves on you?" He asked again for confirmation. "Not even once?"

"No." She said flatly. He didn't need to know that they _had _done that before. It was in the past, after all.

Enzo leaned his elbow against the armrest, resting his head on his fist. "Damn."

She was beginning to feel annoyed. _"What?"_

"He must have it bad for you."

She froze. She hadn't been expecting to hear _that_.

"Huh?" Was all she managed in response.

"Trust me. I know Dante. The fact that he hasn't tried to hit on you while you're _living _here is bad enough, but not even being interested in other women? I mean, you shoulda seen him. He didn't even _look _at this chick while she was wrappin' her arms around him, practically begging for it. I've never seen him like that. Trust me on this one, hon. He's got it _bad_."

Lady sat still, absorbing the information. She looked back down at the open book in her hands.

He sighed, and then stood up. "I should get going. I don't got all night to wait around." She looked up at him, and a concerned look must have been on her face, because his softened when their eyes met. "Look…" His voice softened as well. "It's not your responsibility to take care of Dante. So I'm not saying go with him or anything. Do whatever you want. But try not to break his heart, okay? He's a good kid underneath everything, ya know?"

She looked down. For some reason, her throat was feeling tight. She nodded.

"Okay. Well, I should head out. Let Dante know I stopped by, alright? Tell him to get back to me." She nodded again, still looking away. She heard his footsteps walking away, followed by the front door opening. "See you around, babe."

She sat still, staring down at the book in her lap, for a while after she heard the front door close. She didn't turn many pages.

**[XXVIII]**

She had no idea when she fell asleep. She hadn't been planning on it. She hadn't slept on the couch since her second night there, but the next thing she knew, she was stirring into consciousness, roused by the sound of the front door opening. She sat up slowly, looking around. It was much darker outside now. The main office was very dim, lit only by the moon and the city lights. The book she had been looking at all night was still in her lap, spread open, cover up. _Must have fallen asleep reading…_

She looked up again when she heard the front door close. A dark figure stood near the entrance and began shuffling towards the couch. In the darkness she could only see his outline, but she knew it was Dante. _God…what time is it?_

She sat up fully, closing the book and placing it back on the table. He was still shuffling towards her.

"Dante?"

Silence followed her words. He was close enough for her to see him in the faint light now. He had stopped walking, standing near the couch and looking down at her. He looked a bit dazed in a way that she recognized, and she felt disappointed. _He went out drinking _again_? Is this where he's been going every night?_

Normally she fell asleep before he came home, so she never got to see the state he was in upon arriving back at the office. The idea that he was _still _upset enough to get drunk every night made her feel a bit sick with a strange combination of frustration, sympathy, and guilt.

Finally, after neither of them spoke, he flopped down on the couch, slumping against it and leaning his head back. The fact that he was being so quiet only confirmed to her that he was intoxicated. She sighed, and stood up. She knew she should just go upstairs and forget about him, but she felt like she couldn't just _leave _him there.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" She muttered, her voice seeming louder than normal in the quiet room. He merely looked up at her as she towered over him. A slant of moonlight seemed to fall right across his face. His eyes looked bright in the darkness, despite being half-lidded. She kept her arms folded a moment before reaching forward, deciding to help him out of his coat. That way he could at least get settled in so when she went upstairs she wouldn't have to worry as much.

He didn't move as she tried to slide it off him, just continued looking up at her. She slid the right side down his shoulder, but was unable to tug any further.

"Come on, I'm trying to _help _you. Lean forward." She ordered.

He did as he was told, leaning forward and beginning to shrug the coat off himself. Once he had slid out of the thing, she picked it up and slung it over her arm, intending to hang it up on the coat rack near his desk. She turned and began heading in that direction, but she didn't get very far before she felt a strong hand grip her waist.

"Wait."

She froze, looking down at the hand that was suddenly attached to her. "I'm going to hang this up."

"No." His other hand reached out, both of them now grabbing her by the waist. "Stay."

His hands were warm, even through the fabric of her shirt, and he was holding her quite firmly. For a moment she felt frozen, but then her senses returned.

"Don't touch me there." Her voice sounded strangely soft.

"Why not?" His voice was closer. She felt his breath near the small of her back. But then she reached down, prying his hands away and turning around to glare at him.

"Because I have _stitches _near there, you idiot. You could damage them, and then I'd be stuck here even longer."

His eyes drifted down to her abdomen, hidden beneath her blouse. For a moment they were both still, and then his hands reached for her. She flinched back slightly out of instinct, but they found her waist again. His fingers slipped beneath the bottom of her shirt, and she felt them against her skin as he lifted it slowly.

For a minute she froze, but then relaxed slightly when he stopped just above her belly button. His eyes were drawn to the stitches. He hadn't actually seen them yet.

"Does it hurt?"

For some reason, her heart was starting to thud. She swore it was audible in the quiet room. Truth was that it was quite sore, but she didn't need to tell him that. "It's fine."

He continued to stare at the spot where she was patched up, but then his eyes drifted around. His hand on her right side suddenly smoothed across her stomach where the skin was intact. He ran his fingertips lightly down her flesh. "Wouldn't hurt you to touch this side, would it?"

Her eyes widened. She knew she should pull away from him, but she felt locked down. His hand stopped caressing her and instead held her shirt in place again as he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her stomach.

She froze and burned simultaneously. Her body went rigid as a board, but what felt like liquefied fire traveled down from where his warm lips touched her to between her thighs. He looked up into her wide eyes. His gaze was almost pleading.

"Stay with me, Lady."

For a moment she couldn't respond. Her heart was thudding loudly and her veins felt like fire. However, when he began leaning towards her again she regained her senses. She could feel his warm breath on her. She had a feeling if he kissed her there again she'd be rendered a useless puddle of goo. She pulled away from his grasp before he could touch her.

"I can't." She said finally.

He looked back up at her, his hands falling to his lap. "Why not?"

She shook her head. "You're drunk."

He stared at her in an almost contemplative way. "If I wasn't, would you?"

Her gaze hardened a little. "If you weren't, you wouldn't be acting this way. Now go to sleep. I'm going upstairs."

She turned then, finally walking away from him and towards his desk. After a few seconds, the couch creaked lightly and she heard him shuffling after her. She hung his coat up on the rack and turned, ready to tell him to go back to the couch, but flinched slightly when she realized how close he had gotten. He was towering over her. She had to look up to meet his gaze. Where she was standing, the moonlight was shining directly into her eyes, and she found it hard to see his dark face.

"Dante, go back to the couch." She said quietly, but he paid no heed to her order. Suddenly he brought his hands up, cupping either side of her face. It happened so quickly she didn't have time to pull away. Her head was tilted back, and she had nowhere to look except into his face. She could hardly make it out in the darkness. She felt his fingers and the rough leather of his gloves against her soft skin.

"Dante…" It came out as a whisper. She wanted to tell him to leave but couldn't seem to move, or speak, or do anything except stand there and burn.

He leaned forward then and kissed her on the cheek. She closed her eyes. He continued to kiss all over her face, her cheeks, her nose, but he stayed away from her lips, which were tingling in anticipation. She wanted him to kiss her there and didn't want him to at the same time. She could smell the alcohol on him and it made her feel sick, but that didn't stop her from feeling dizzy in a pleasant way. Her legs felt like rubber and she was sure they were going to give way and collapse any minute. The intensity of the fire inside her was almost unbearable now.

His hands were gripping her even tighter, clinging to her face almost desperately, but he slowed his pace and began kissing closer to her lips, which felt swollen despite not having been touched. She unconsciously parted them in anticipation. He finally dared to get as close to them as he'd been, kissing the corner of her mouth. He seemed to be waiting for her permission to move any further. She was breathing heavily, but she could almost _taste_ the alcohol on him now. This just further reminded her that he was only acting this way because he was intoxicated, and her disgust at the taste of him was enough to finally snap her out of her daze.

"Stop…" It sounded quiet, almost defenseless, but she reached up and pried his hands away from her, stepping back. She finally opened her eyes. His were glazed over with lust (which did nothing to help _hers _go away) and looking at her almost possessively.

"You smell like alcohol. It's disgusting." She said finally, letting go of his hands. They fell limply to his sides. She realized her hands were trembling lightly. When he didn't say anything, she spoke up again. "I'm going to bed. You should do the same."

He still didn't respond, just stood there staring down at her. She had trouble deciphering his gaze in the dark, so she turned away from him and began up the stairs.

"Lady…"

She stopped moving, but didn't turn around. He hadn't moved from his spot near the desk.

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad." She still didn't turn around.

"Then stay."

He sounded almost sad when he said it, and it made her feel sad. She turned to look at him finally. She still couldn't see his expression, masked in darkness.

"I can't. Something could…happen." He didn't respond to that. "Look…" She sighed. "It's late. Go to sleep, okay? We'll talk tomorrow."

He still didn't say anything, but finally turned away from her and began shuffling back towards the couch. She watched until he flopped down onto it with a sigh, and after a few moments of him lying still, she finished the ascent to the bedroom.

She sat down on the bed once she had closed the door behind her. She half expected to hear him clomping up the stairs behind her, but all remained silent. She realized she was still trembling lightly and she wasn't sure why. She felt sadness overtaking her, although this didn't do anything to quell her lust.

She had, of course, experienced lust prior to sleeping with Dante. She had always done her best to suppress her desires, even as a younger teen, back when she had been Mary, because she had associated such carnal instincts with weakness, something that would lead only to trouble. Still, experiencing it from time to time was inevitable, and she had experienced it enough to say with certainty that it felt _different _now. Maybe it just changed after losing your virginity, but whatever the reason, it felt much more…powerful now. That was definitely _not_ going to help her fall back asleep.

She changed into more comfortable clothes in silence. She didn't know what to think about this whole thing. She had no doubt now that what Enzo had said must have been true. Why else would Dante be _so _upset about everything still? Or maybe it wasn't her. Maybe he was upset for some other reason. Hell, maybe this was just how he really _was _all the time. She was seeing him much more frequently than ever before, after all. She had never really seen him going about his day to day life. She felt she knew a good deal about him at this point, but how much did she _really _know?

She crawled into bed, wrapping the covers tightly around her. The chances were good he wouldn't even remember their little incident the following morning, and she wouldn't need to bring it up. But this whole thing still wasn't settled. She wanted him to feel better. She wanted him to know she truly _meant _it when she said his demon form didn't bother her anymore. What she didn't know was whether she wanted to leave it at that or explore things further. It was impossible to deny that there was some sort of _something _between them at this point, and that that something was more powerful than either of them would have originally expected.

She wasn't going to be staying here much longer. She felt a bit relieved to think that she'd be getting the stitches taken out fairly soon, and after that she should be well enough to make the journey back home. After that point, it was really up to her to decide what she wanted to do. She could do the sensible thing and forget about it, get re-absorbed back into her normal life separated from him, and only pay him the occasional visit, interacting as fellow demon hunters and casual friends. Or, she could probe his feelings further, find out exactly what he felt for her and how strong it was, and be open with him about how _she _felt, and see where that would lead. But how exactly did she even feel? She wasn't sure, partly due to the fact she was having such a hard time admitting she felt _anything_.

Well, one thing she concretely knew he made her feel was lust. It had simmered down now but was still present. She was almost tempted to quench the desires herself, but it would feel strange doing that in his house, despite what had taken place in this bedroom in the past. Fortunately sleep was tugging at her just as strongly, and she gave in to it gratefully.

**[XXVIII]**

Sure enough, nothing was said the next morning of their little incident, and she just played it up like she had been upstairs sleeping when he came home. She didn't think he was lying; if he was, he was making a really good show of it. She remembered to tell him about Enzo stopping by and mentioned what he had said about the case. She, of course, left out the other part of their conversation.

"Haunted house, huh? We'll see about that."

After conversing with Enzo, Dante agree to at least stop by the guy's house and talk to him, see if the job was worth doing or not. Enzo agreed to be there soon to give him a ride. As interesting as the pile of books on the coffee table were, she did not feel like staying home alone and reading all day while Dante was out doing fun, demon-related things again.

"Let me come with you."

Dante shot her an exasperated look. "How many times have we talked about this?"

"We've hardly talked about it all recently." She shot back. "I'm not as weak as before. And besides, you're not really going there to do the mission, are you? You're just meeting with the guy to find out what's up."

"Yeah, but we're gonna be in his potentially demon-infected house. Shit might go down."

"I'm sure I could handle it."

"Look, no offense, but even if you were in perfect condition, I'm not really big on the idea of you getting half my paycheck. If I do this job, Enzo's already getting a chunk of it as it is."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not talking about _doing _the job for you. I just want to come and see what's up. I'm tired of being useless."

"Hey, you're reading all those books and stuff, aren't you?" He gestured vaguely towards the coffee table. "Saves me from having to do the boring stuff. That's useful." He grinned, but she was not amused. He sighed. "Fine, fine, you can come. Just don't blame me if something happens."

"Wouldn't dream of it." She said smoothly.

When Enzo arrived she had already equipped her handguns, and when the car horn honked loudly from outside, she went to pick up her launcher as Dante headed for the door.

"Whoa, don't think you're gonna need_ that_ thing." He called over to her.

She looked up at him. "I'm pretty sure I can lift it now – "

"Look, babe, like you said, demons might not even show up, but if they do, _I'm _gonna be the one to take them out. This is my job, remember?"

She scowled. He was probably right, but out of defiance she brought the launcher anyway. Lifting it still hurt a lot more than it should have, but she managed to get it strapped to her back. Despite the pain, it felt good to feel the sturdy metal behind her. She had missed it.

When she left the office, Dante was just entering the passenger seat. Enzo turned to look at her as she exited the building.

"Lady's coming with us." Dante explained. She opened the door to the backseat.

"Huh? Thought she was hurt or something."

"She _is, _but the woman refuses to listen to reason."

Lady rolled her eyes. "I'm _fine._"

"Hey, whatever. Fine with me." Enzo turned back around. "Just don't let that huge blade of yours knock out a window or something."

She loaded Kalina Ann carefully into the backseat, then climbed in herself and they headed out. It was a relatively quiet ride. Dante questioned Enzo occasionally about the job, but for the most part he leaned back with his boots propped up against the dashboard and let the breeze blow his unruly hair around. Lady remained mostly silent as well, watching the buildings and then the landscape passing by as they moved into more isolated areas. It made her feel peaceful, which was a welcome change of pace.

She didn't pay as much attention to her surroundings as perhaps she should have. Her mind was distracted by thoughts of demons and the things she had read in the old books on the coffee table. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see any demons on this mission or not. She knew Dante said to let him handle it, but there was no way she wasn't going to do _something _if she saw some. Hell, she didn't even care if she got paid at this point. She was just tired of feeling inactive.

It was around the time Dante interrupted the silence by asking, "How much farther?" in a bored voice that she took a moment to really observe their surroundings. They had headed north, the same direction necessary to get back to her house, although it was still far away. But they had veered onto a different route, and she realized the city they were in was familiar. She realized with a strangely uneasy feeling that it wasn't far from the area she had grown up in.

The old mansion she had once called home had belonged to her father. In some will he had written long before demons began consuming his world, he had stated that, should anything happen to him, the property would go to Kalina Ann, but if something happened to her as well, and Mary was still underage, it would go to his half-brother, a rich and powerful man who he was hardly on speaking terms with, but apparently trusted. She was sent to stay with her aunt shortly after her mother's death and father's disappearance and hadn't seen the mansion since, out of her own choice. She had, however, briefly heard of its fate – eventually the rights were handed over to her uncle, and he, living far away, had chosen to simply sell the place and make a profit from it.

She hadn't thought about it in at least a year, but as she began recognizing the area they were in from her childhood, it suddenly popped into her head. _Some wealthy guy…what if…no, that'd be too weird of a coincidence._

Still, she wanted to ask just to make sure.

"Enzo?"

"Yeah?"

"What's the address of this house we're going to?"

He told her, and she sat back, feeling stunned. She could almost feel the color draining from her face. The "haunted mansion" was her old home.

_No way..._

Dante glanced back at her briefly, but then did a double take. "Lady?"

It really made perfect sense. Of course the house was haunted. Given all the demonic research, rituals, and spells that had gone on in that house, it was a wonder its new inhabitants weren't _dead _yet. Her father had had secret places hidden all over that house, so discreet she had never found them, and the police probably hadn't found them, either. There were undoubtedly still demonic artifacts in that home. No wonder things were going wrong. If anything, it was amazing it had taken this long before anyone had complained -

"Lady?" Dante repeated.

She looked over at him, snapped out of her momentary daze. "What?"

"You okay?"

For some reason, she wasn't eager to tell Dante. She somehow felt ashamed. "Yeah. Fine."

Dante made a little noise of disbelief, but turned away and left it alone.

She felt sick now, and seemed to feel sicker by the minute as she recognized the area around her more and more and realized they were getting closer. She didn't want to see that fucking house. She didn't want to go inside it. Worst of all was the idea of telling Dante. And she knew she _should _tell him. Hell, she'd be the best one for this case. She knew the house better than he did, of course. She knew her father better. She'd be better at locating the sources of the problems. But she felt ashamed. The house was too much a part of her, a part of her old self and a part of her broken self, and she didn't want to expose that.

She stayed silent for the rest of the ride, gaze set on the window, gloved hands grasping the rocket launcher in her lap tighter than necessary. She had a feeling Dante knew something was up because she could sense him continuing to glance back at her every now and then, but she didn't look in his direction. When they finally reached her old street, she looked on with determination even as the old mansion came into view. When they finally reached their destination and were pulling up alongside the iron gates blocking the entrance, she didn't feel as nauseous as she thought she would. She felt mostly surreal.

Enzo parked the car on the side of the road near the gate, and he and Dante exited. She couldn't bring herself to move. She looked down at the rocket launcher in her lap, thinking that she should probably maneuver it off of herself and get up, yet she still remained frozen.

The front gates were opened by what appeared to be a servant waiting ready on the inside, and Enzo walked inside, conversing with him. Dante, however, glanced back at her.

"Hey Lady, you coming?"

She looked over at him, feeling a bit light headed. Finally, she opened her door and stepped outside. She glanced over at Enzo. He was busy talking to the servant. She knew she needed to tell Dante, and now was the best chance.

"Dante…come here."

He looked even more confused now, but walked to stand next to her. "What's up? You okay?" He muttered, their bodies close. His voice was serious now, and sounded strong. Somehow it made her feel a bit more confident about continuing.

"I think…I should be the one to deal with this case."

She expected him to make some comment about how it was _his _case, but, perhaps because he could sense something was wrong, he merely said, "What makes you say that?"

She looked up into his eyes. Might as well just get it out. "I used to live here."

His eyes widened, and he looked back at the mansion behind him. "You used to _live _here? In this swanky place?"

He turned back to look at her, and she nodded. "This is where we lived when my father was experimenting with demons. All the rituals and anything else he did happened here. There's a good chance there's still demonic artifacts in the house somewhere."

Dante nodded. "Have you been in here since…" he trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. She shook her head.

"No."

"You gonna be okay with this?"

She nodded, but looked away. "Yeah. I'll be fine." She didn't sound nearly as convincing as she had hoped.

"Look…" he said after a moment. "You don't have to come in. Even if you know the house better, I'm better at sensing demonic energy – "

"No." She looked back up at him, feeling more determined. "I have to do this."

He didn't say anything, and they heard Enzo call from inside the gate.

"Hey! Are you two coming or what?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're on our way." Dante called back, then lowered his voice. "You sure?"

She nodded, sighing. "Yeah. Let's go."

They walked up towards the house mostly in silence. It certainly was surreal. They were walking up the driveway she had walked up thousands of times in the past, heading toward the home she had grown up in. The prospect of entering the front doors made her feel more nervous than she did before a demon fight. She wasn't afraid of what might be lurking inside; she was afraid of what seeing all the old memories, both good and bad, might do to her.

She felt like she was drifting on autopilot as they were guided inside, through the main hall and into the living room. _Her _living room. It was twice the size of the average person's living room, with large, leather couches in the center, surrounding a mahogany coffee table, with a fireplace nearby. Those things were the same, but the room looked different overall. There were different family photos on the mantelpiece, different curtains, different artwork on the walls and books on the shelves. It was a strange feeling, seeing a room she had grown up in being lived in by somebody else.

A man was sitting on one of the couches, sipping what appeared to be tea, but he stood up as they entered the room. His hair was graying and slicked back, and he was dressed in a suit.

"Ah! Mr. Ferino! Thank you so much for coming by." He shook the short man's hand vigorously, then cast a somewhat apprehensive eye on the two figures behind him. "And I take it this is Mr. Dante? And…who is this?" He looked at Lady questioningly.

"This is Lady, an associate of ours. Congrats, you're getting two demon hunters for the price of one today."

"Oh…I see. Very well. Come on then, sit down. And do be careful not to scratch the leather." He added, eyeing Rebellion and Kalina Ann warily.

Lady removed her launcher and set it in the floor, letting her body sink back into the couch she had sat on so many times. She suddenly felt distinctly like she was fifteen again, sitting here and doing her homework. God, it had been so nice when term papers had been her biggest worry. It was an entirely different world, one that felt alien now when she thought about it. She couldn't imagine living that way. But then, that had been Mary's world; she was Lady now.

"So, Mr. Harrison," she heard Enzo say. "Why don't you fill these two in on what's been going on lately."

"Well, it's not lately, really. There have been odd things happening since we moved in, a few months ago."

"What sort of odd things?" Dante spoke up next to her.

"There are evil spirits in this house." The man said darkly. "I can sense it. There's always this feeling that something is _there _with you. At first it started out as little things…items moving to different locations, pottery breaking. It was fairly infrequent. But lately it's gotten worse. And Annabelle, my daughter…" He paused for a moment. Lady looked at him for the first time and noticed just how distraught he looked. "Something is wrong with her. I'm worried these spirits have gotten hold of her. She's only fourteen. She's been behaving strangely, keeping herself locked in her room and having strange outbursts. I've never seen her like this before. That was what finally led to me calling in professional help. I've tried several priests already."

Dante chuckled. "Unless you know a priest who's handy with guns and a sword, that won't do much good. You can't exactly pray these demons away."

The man nodded. "Yes, I see that now. And that is why I contacted your friend Mr. Ferino. He told me you're an expert at dealing with these sorts of problems."

"That I am." Dante said smugly, leaning back and spreading his arms out on the top of the couch. "Although I don't exactly work for free." Lady rolled her eyes, but the man didn't seem phased.

"Oh, of course not. I assure you there will be a hefty reward in it for you if you can restore peace to my home." He looked over at Lady. "And you as well, Miss, if you contribute."

"Where has most of the strange activity been taking place?" She asked curiously.

"All over, really, mostly on the second floor. I couldn't pinpoint an exact location." Lady frowned. She had been trying to think of where the traces of her father would most likely be, and "all over" didn't really help.

"Miss…" the man said, and his tone of voice made her glance back up at him. He looked like he'd been struck with an idea. "Do you think you could speak with my daughter?"

Lady's brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"She's been unresponsive to everyone who's tried to figure out what is plaguing her. But maybe she would respond better to a female closer to her age. At the least, I'm sure if she truly is possessed, you are more capable of dealing with demons than any of the others who have tried so far."

Lady's eyebrows rose slightly at the request. Maybe that wasn't a bad idea. She doubted the girl was really possessed – while it was certainly something a demon was capable of doing, most didn't waste their time, at least not for prolonged periods, since humans were weak vessels. She was probably just frightened by something she had seen. Lady figured she'd probably be able to find the source of the problem from the girl sooner than her father.

"Yeah, I'll go talk to her. Where is she?"

"Well, as I said, she's been keeping herself locked in her room. Oh, Stanley can show you how to get there, if you're willing to go now." He motioned to the servant who had led them to the room, standing at the ready outside the door.

She glanced at Dante, whose expression she couldn't read. No one said anything, so she stood.

"I'll see what I can do."

She left the room, the man expressing his thanks behind her. She didn't need to be guided through her own home – _ex_-home – but she walked wordlessly behind the servant as he led her across the main hall, up the marble stairs, down the hall of the second floor. Again, she was overwhelmed by how the same but different it was. Gone were the old paintings, the old plants and vases. She wondered what had become of them. New cabinets, pictures, and china had taken their place. She noted how disheveled everything looked – some curtains were torn, some cabinet drawers flung upon, some ornaments broken on the ground that hadn't yet been swept away. It wasn't anything drastic, but enough to give the sense that something wasn't quite right.

She had a feeling about where they were heading, and as a result wasn't surprised when the room they stopped in front of was her own. Well, her _old _room. All that could be seen was the door, firmly closed. She wondered how different the inside looked. _Well, I'll know soon enough…_

"Miss Annabelle has likely locked herself inside." She turned to look at the butler by her side.

"Yeah. Look, you don't have to stay. If I can't get in, I can find my way back."

"Very well, Miss." He bowed his head briefly before turning to leave.

She watched until he was gone, then turned back toward the door. Her door. Her _former _door. She lifted her fist and knocked. No response. She knocked again, louder.

"Go away!" A muffled voice called out.

"Annabelle?" She called through the door.

There was a pause. "Who's there?"

"My name is Lady. I'm a demon hunter. I'm here to help you." There was another pause, and Lady spoke again. "Do you mind if I come in? I want to ask you a few questions."

"How do I know you're not gonna try to throw holy water on me?" She sounded bitter.

"I just want to talk, I promise." Another pause, although she heard what sounded like the girl muttering to herself. "Could you at least open the door?"

Another moment passed. Lady stood there expectantly, waiting. Finally, she heard footsteps padding against the carpet, the click of the bolt coming undone, and she stepped back slightly as the door opened a crack. A pair of bright blue eyes peeked out. They were squinting, apprehensive, untrusting. But they met Lady's eyes, briefly taking in her face, and almost instantly they widened in surprise, a soft gasp emanating from the small girl. She opened the door wider, standing on the threshold.

"You're that girl!"

Lady's brow furrowed and she felt a bit suspicious.

"From the picture." Annabelle continued.

Lady only felt more confused, but to her surprise, the girl stepped back and held the door open, wordlessly inviting her. She accepted, stepping into her old bedroom.

The girl rushed to a white bureau and began rummaging through the drawers, but Lady simply stood, looking around. It really looked nothing like her old room anymore. There was a different bed, different furniture, different posters on the wall. It looked a great deal more frilly and pink. But the tan carpet and white ceiling still remained. She let her eyes drift up towards the ceiling. The girl's bed was in the same spot hers had been. She had spent countless hours lying in that bed, staring up at the ceiling, finding shapes in the cracks. One in particular, she had decided as a little girl, looked like the face of a kindly old lady. It was, of course, still there. For some reason, seeing the familiar lines hit her with a burst of nostalgia strong enough to make her throat feel tight.

"This."

She looked down to see the young girl in front of her once again. She got a better look at her now – she was small, pale, with long, frizzy brown hair that was sticking out in various directions. She was clad in blue pajamas. Lady looked down to see what had been thrust in her hand, and her heart skipped a beat.

It was a photograph of her and her mother, taken a few years ago. It was a simple picture, the two of them sitting next to one another in chairs and smiling at the camera, but it made the tightness in Lady's throat increase.

"I noticed your eyes." Annabelle explained. "I've never seen anyone with eyes like that before."

The eyes she spoke of began to fill with tears, staring fixedly at the beautiful, long-haired woman, smiling peacefully, completely unaware of her gruesome fate.

"You used to live here, didn't you?"

The girl's voice brought her back to reality, and she swallowed hard, looking up from the picture and blinking any potential tears away.

"Yes. Where did you find this?"

"In the library." Suddenly the girl looked angry, folding her arms around herself and running towards the Queen-sized bed, burying herself beneath the pink covers.

"What else did you see in the library?" Lady inquired.

The girl peeked from beneath the covers.

"Are you really a demon hunter?" She asked a bit breathlessly.

"Yes."

"How many demons have you killed?"

"A lot."

The girl nodded, looking serious. "There's something…_in there._" She whispered harshly, pulling the covers up to her eyes.

"In the library?"

She nodded. Lady took a few steps forward, toward the bed. She was pleased to see the girl didn't shrink away.

"What did you see?"

"I didn't _see _anything. It was invisible."

"You heard a voice?" She nodded again. "What did it say?"

She suddenly flipped the covers over her head violently. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Lady sighed. She really wasn't a fan of working with kids.

"If you don't tell me about it, I can't help you."

"Hmm." The girl made a noise beneath the covers, as if contemplating whether to talk or not.

Lady decided to switch topics, seeing if she could ease any information into the conversation.

"You know, your father seems to think you're possessed, but you seem pretty sane to me."

She peeked her head back out. "I'm _not _possessed."

Lady folded her arms. "So what would cause them to say that?"

"He's just mad because I won't leave. I'm _not _going back out there, and if anyone tries to make me I yell and throw stuff at them."

"What are you so afraid of?"

The girl looked away, slowly pulling the covers low enough to reveal her whole face. She was silent a moment, and Lady simply waited.

"It almost hit me the first time."

Lady's brow furrowed. "Almost hit you with what?"

"A vase." She looked over at Lady again. "I didn't hear anything at first. I was just exploring the library, and I noticed one of the bookshelves was all weird, like maybe it was a secret passageway like in the movies. And then a vase smashed against it, right next to my head."

"But you didn't see anyone there?" Lady clarified.

The girl shook her head. "I heard the voice after that. It told me it was going to kill me. I asked who was there and some books came flying and almost hit my head. One of them hit my shoulder when I was running out."

Lady was silent, trying to recall if she'd ever come across a demon she could only hear and not see. The girl folded her arms.

"There. I told you, now go kill it already."

Lady sighed. "It's usually not that easy. But I'll see what I can do." She headed back towards the door, casting a final glance around her former bedroom. "Thanks for letting me in."

"This used to be your room, didn't it?"

She looked down at the girl in surprise. Annabelle merely shrugged and disappeared beneath the covers again. After a moment, Lady turned and continued out into the hall and headed in the direction of the library.

It almost felt like walking through a dream. The familiar blue wallpaper, the tall, ornate windows, the tan carpet. So familiar yet it didn't feel the same. Even the squares of sunlight against the wall looked surreal. She felt lightheaded, her stomach tingling unpleasantly in anticipation.

When she reached the library, she opened the doors slowly, peering inside. Another bout of nostalgia swept over her as she realized it looked nearly the same. The wooden tables, the plush armchairs, the rows and rows of endless books. Her father, despite everything, had been a scholar, and she had spent countless hours in this room, studying, reading. It did, however, look disheveled, which brought her back to reality. There were books all over the floor, stuffing ripped out of the armchairs, plants knocked over and curtains torn. She pulled her handgun out as she walked inside, knowing she should probably get Dante but ignoring the voice in her head that reminded her.

She walked slowly, glancing around for signs of any suspicious activity. All was still, which only made her tense more, expecting something to jump out at any moment. After a few moments of nothing happening she inspected the room more closely, looking for anything amiss. When nothing caught her eye she turned around slowly and realized what she had been looking for was right behind her.

One of the bookshelves was tilted forward slightly, leaning toward her like an open door. Her eyes widened and she remembered what Annabelle had said. _A secret passageway? _In all her years of studying at that library she had never noticed anything unusual about any of the shelves. But sure enough, it was leaning forward, exposing a slice of darkness between itself and the wall that undoubtedly held bad things.

Her heart was beating a bit faster than it normally did when she was tracking a demon. At first she thought it might have been because she was weaker than normal, but in the back of her mind she knew it was because she was about to discover even more of her father's terrible secrets. She reached forward, gripping the shelf with gloved hands and pulling. Her pulse increased as she pulled it forward, half expecting her father to jump out at her, back from the dead to torment her some more. She groaned, finding the strain a bit harder to bear than normal due to her injuries, and as she caught a glimpse of what was inside the passageway, her breath caught in her throat.

Skeletons were hanging from chains, awful, mutilated things. The bodies looked like the human form, but the skulls were abnormal. Some had horns and other weird growths, and she swore some looked contorted into expressions of anger or pain. She squeezed the shelf tightly, her eyes moving around slowly. There were shelves lining the top and bottom of the space. The top was filled with much more human looking skulls, and the bottom with jars full of unidentifiable things she didn't want to examine further.

"Shit…" she muttered.

Without warning, a breeze rushed past her right shoulder and a growl sounded in her ear. Finally - it was showing itself. She whipped around, gun aimed, but couldn't see anything. Her eyes searched the room wildly for any trace of where it might be, and she heard cackling laughter coming from the window. She shot at the noise, leaving bullet holes in the pane but apparently not hitting anything.

"Show yourself, demon!" She demanded.

It didn't waste any time. Suddenly one of the large tables in the middle of the room was levitating. She ducked out of the way just in time, rolling forward, and it hit the wall behind her with an ear-splitting crash, splintering into pieces. Lady swore the entire room shook as more books rained down. Across the room, she could see the invisible creature move as it scraped across the shelves, books falling in its wake. She attempted to follow it with her gun, feeling a bit foolish as her bullets merely pierced the shelves. She wasn't sure if bullets would even hurt this creature, and not being able to actually _see _it didn't make things any easier.

She was so distracted attempting to locate the creature that she didn't even notice the library door open. Suddenly, a gunshot fired over her crouched form and a screech was heard above her head. She whipped around to look at the door and saw Dante standing there, staring intently at the spot he had just fired at.

"Can you see that thing?" She demanded.

"No, but I can feel it."

Feeling a bit safer at that bit of news, she stood up and walked over to stand by his side.

"So bullets can still hurt this thing?"

"Yeah. Or stun it, anyway. The only real way to damage these spirits is if they take on a solid form and you damage _that. _This bastard probably knows it, too." A vase in the corner began to lift, and Dante shot right through it, shattering the ceramic creation and eliciting another cry from the demon.

"You got here pretty fast."

He shrugged. "Was heading upstairs anyway to investigate and heard a crash." He turned to look at her for the first time. "You can let me handle this."

She arched an eyebrow. "I'm okay. I can fight now."

"I don't doubt that." He smirked then. "But you're forgetting that this is _my _job."

She glared, but an unspoken understanding passed between them. He was still concerned about her less than ideal state and didn't want her in danger. She sighed, not eager to back out of her first fight in what felt like forever, but he was probably right. Besides, he clearly knew how to handle this demon better than she did. Maybe this once it would be okay to walk away.

"Fine," she said. "But don't take too long. You're my ride home."

He just continued smirking and fired off more rounds, and as she left the library for the final time, she actually smiled a little at what she had said. _Home. _She wasn't sure if she meant her house or Dante's, but either way, she realized this haunted mansion wasn't part of her anymore.

**[XXVIII]**

Lady left Dante the day after the stitches came off. Though she was relieved to be back home, part of her had been reluctant to leave. But for the first time in awhile, she was feeling surprisingly clear-headed about everything. She wasn't confused anymore. She knew where she stood.

Being in her old house had changed her, and not in the negative way she thought it would. She felt as though some of her ghosts were finally being exorcised for good. For so long, the thought of anything from her old life filled her with a sense of despair and dread, but now that she had seen a central part of her former self in real time, it didn't seem so scary anymore. It didn't hurt to think about. There was still a dull ache when she thought of her father, her mother, but the house had felt like an alien place. She _was _Lady now, and she knew it more than ever.

She kept the photo the girl had given her, the one with her mother. Looking at herself in it, she saw someone different. She'd never forget the way things had been, but it was time to lay Mary officially to rest. Though she had changed her name the night she killed her father, she felt that up until this point, she had been at a sort of in-between, not Mary anymore but not really Lady yet. That was about to change.

She didn't talk to Dante much after she left his place. They both had transitioned back into their separate lives. She knew, regardless of what he said, that he still felt bad about the demon thing, and she was determined to prove she didn't care, once and for all. But not yet. For now she was taking a breather from Dante, easing back into demon hunting (though no heavy missions yet) and getting used to be being back at her own place. But while she was taking a break, preparing herself for her next trip down to Dante's city and whatever that would entail, she decided to make her complete transition into Lady official by finally changing her name.

Everyone called her Lady, but according to official records, she was still Mary. She decided to go through the process of finally getting that memoir of her past eradicated. From now on, all official documents would say _Lady. _To her, this was more than just a legality. It represented the final burying of her past, her newfound ability to think of her mother without being overcome with despair, the sewing up of a wound deeper than her real-life stab wound until it resembled less than a papercut.

She became distracted by her own life, but thought often of what she would say when she confronted Dante again. In the meanwhile, he served as the inspiration for the completion of her name. She had to change her last name too, of course, and she wasn't attached to any name in particular. At first she hadn't been sure what to choose, but then it had hit her. She doubted anyone would ever find out – last names were only for legal purposes – and it made her smile in a way she was becoming less ashamed about. So she made it official.

Redgrave.


	29. Drunken Brawl

**A/N: **This chapter feels quite a bit shorter than normal, for which I apologize. However, it's also one of the most emotionally intense, or at least that's how it felt to me when I was writing it. The scene at the end of this chapter has been in my head a long time and is one of my favorite images that this story has given me. I very much enjoyed finally writing it out. Hopefully you enjoy it, too, and I find it bittersweet to say that next time you see me it'll be with this story's epilogue.

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty-Nine – Drunken Brawl**_

**[XXIX]**

At first, it felt weird not having Lady around. Though it was true they had spent a lot of time apart, he had gotten accustomed to the feeling of expecting to see her when he got home. He had gotten so used to seeing her that it didn't hurt the way it had at first, though there was still the occasional dull ache of longing. Still, his overall demeanor had been affected. If anything, thinking about _himself_ was what hurt. He had spent most of his childhood hating himself and what he was. That had faded over time and he had learned to embrace his abilities, but that self-loathing was always there, lying dormant, and the little incident with Lady had brought it back out into the open.

He figured her departure would snap him out of it, but if anything it just made life seem even emptier. The huge pile of books had disappeared from the coffee table, along with her arsenal of weapons, and her suitcases were gone from his bedroom. He missed the little things, like having someone to talk to in the morning when coffee was barely keeping him awake, or coming home in the early evening and hearing the shower running. Little signs of life that meant he wasn't alone. Now there was nothing but silence.

On the positive side, the phone had been ringing more often, and he kept busy. Soon enough the thrill of demon hunting took over and he began to fade back into his normal routine, distancing himself from all the drama that seemed to be happening lately. Still, she remained on his mind. At first he was a little worried, hoping she wouldn't attempt any battles she couldn't handle in her condition. Normally he wouldn't have been concerned, but the image of her bleeding to death on the warehouse floor haunted him and made his stomach squirm. Still, he was confident she'd be able to handle herself.

He didn't go out drinking quite as often, but it still happened at least a couple times a week, if only because it had become a habit. Unfortunately, instead of its usual tendency to make him forget his problems, getting drunk only seemed to bring Lady to mind more. He would realize he hadn't heard from her in a week and suddenly worry if she was alive. Then he'd imagine himself trying to contact her, only to hear a harsh remark about how she didn't talk to _demons_. She would never say such a thing – at least, not anymore – but when he was inebriated enough he found it a plausible scenario. Then he'd attempt to cure those alcohol-induced bad thoughts with even more alcohol, until he could do nothing else except stumble home and pass out. He'd wake up in the morning with a hangover and feeling thankful that his liver was superhuman.

The days rolled on by and merged into weeks, and the time he had spent living with Lady continued to feel more and more distant, as if it had only been a dream he was steadily forgetting. He worked, he got paid, and he went out to drink, but the thought of her never faded completely.

Lady experienced a similar effect, the time she spent with Dante feeling like some sort of dream as she got readjusted to her normal life. She, however, had more distractions, as her body still didn't feel right yet and she had to be extra careful. The stitches were gone on the outside, but she knew her insides were still fragile. There was a scar where the stitches had been, yet another one to add to the many that adorned her.

It was awhile before she decided to see Dante again, mostly because she wasn't entirely sure _why _she was going to see him again, or what exactly she would do once she was down there. All she knew was that she felt compelled to go because, though they had parted on a positive note, she knew there was still something dark between them that passed unspoken. She was sure Dante still wasn't over her comments about his demon form, and she was determined to bury that whole thing once and for all. How, exactly, she didn't know, but she knew she had to do _something _or it would constantly nag at her, buried in the back of her mind.

They called one another sporadically, keeping it mostly professional and short. It was over a month before she finally felt well enough – and mentally prepared enough – to make the journey back down to Dante's city.

**[XXIX]**

When she arrived it was early evening and he wasn't home. She had been a bit nervous as she walked up to those familiar front doors only to discover an empty house inside. At first she thought maybe he was on a mission, and she'd just wait for him. But then she recalled the way he'd gone on drinking binges when she had been living with him and had the sickening thought that perhaps he was _still _doing that, and decided going to search for him might be a better idea.

She was familiar with his city at this point, and she knew where all the major bars were. She thought it seemed kind of early – not even completely dark yet – for them to be crowded, but when she reached Joey's – the place she remembered Dante saying he frequented – there was already a large crowd milling around outside and people constantly entering and exiting, loud chatter assaulting her ears whenever the door opened.

She hesitated a moment. If he wasn't in there, she really didn't want to waste her time going into this place and being surrounded by a sweaty, drunken mass of bodies, especially if some of them planned on hitting on her. But if he WAS in there, she didn't want to just walk on by. Sighing, she braced herself and slipped past the crowd and inside.

The sound of voices seemed to intensify ten times once she was inside, dwarfing the noise of the modern rock music playing in the background. The air felt stale and was thick with the smell of cigarette smoke. She glanced around and frowned disapprovingly. The place seemed to be filled with bimbos and obnoxious frat boys. She got quite a few stares and one barely coherent "Hey, baby!" from some drunk on her right, but beyond that she was thankfully left alone. She maneuvered her way through the crowd, eyes searching for a flash of red or that telltale silver hair.

It was slow going, having to squeeze her way through the crowd, getting far too close for comfort, praying no one would feel the guns strapped to her thighs beneath her skirt and start a commotion. After a minute or two of being in the cluttered place, she hadn't gotten very far and hadn't spotted him anywhere. She was just thinking _at least no one is bothering me _when she heard a voice in her ear.

"Hey, darling." It was a smooth, oozing voice. She glanced briefly to her left to see an older man, probably late twenties, with a brown scruffy beard but neatly combed hair, not unattractive. She planned on ignoring him until he continued his sentence. "You looking for someone?"

She paused, turning her head to get a better look at him. Had she really looked that lost?

"Yeah, I am. A man named Dante. Do you know him?"

"Dante, the crazy bounty hunter? 'Course, everyone 'round here knows him."

"Well, is he _here_?"

"Saw him a few minutes ago. We're both regulars, he should still be here." He stretched his arm out, pointing towards the back of the bar, his arm brushing her shoulder. She smelled thick cologne. "He was over there last I saw him."

"Thank you," she said, and walked away quickly, shoving her way through the crowd. The guy disappeared behind her. She rounded the bend he had been pointing toward and sure enough, the first thing that met her vision in the dark room was a crop of white hair, in the back near the wall, sitting alone at the bar. There were a few people seated there, but most were at tables or booths. Her heart dropped a little when she saw him, a sudden batch of nerves. It would seem strange showing up here to meet him, wouldn't it? What if he thought she was following him? _Nah, don't be ridiculous, _she mentally scolded herself. He knew her better than that. Bracing herself, she began walking towards the end of the bar.

One of his hands clutched a half-filled glass in front of him, but he wasn't drinking it. He didn't glance in her direction until she was nearly at the empty stool next to him. When she did catch the corner of his eye, he looked up at her and complete surprise appeared on his face.

"Lady?"

She took a seat at the bar stool next to him, looking around the room and pretending to be interested. "You know, this place isn't _quite _as bad as I expected it to be on the inside. Not what I'd call a classy joint either, though."

She could see him still gaping at her in shock in her peripheral vision. But then his face relaxed and he let out a laugh. "Well, well. Look who decided to stop by for a visit."

His voice didn't seem particularly slow or slurred, which made her feel a little relieved. Either he hadn't been here long, or perhaps he really was just here for a casual night out. Maybe she had been wrong about him still being upset.

"You weren't at the office," she explained. "It takes me awhile to travel down here, you know, so I wasn't going to sit around waiting for you. Somehow I knew you'd be here."

He laughed again, but this time a bit more nervously, or so it seemed. "Bad timing. I just left the office about twenty minutes ago."

So he _had _just gotten here. She turned her head to look at him finally, eyes locking. It was the first time she had seen those eyes for over a month, and it made her stomach flutter ever so slightly. She was relieved to see that he looked mostly like himself, but she swore something dark lurked behind his features. There were more lines on his face; he looked more worn.

"So." He downed some of whatever was in his glass and then spun around, resting his elbows against the bar. "What's the occasion?"

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say; she couldn't exactly mention that she had essentially come to check up on him. She responded quickly, however, in a playful tone. "What, you let me live with you for almost two weeks and then don't even want a follow-up report?"

He grinned. "Well, sure. But there's gotta be more to it than that. I mean, you could have just called. Not that I don't appreciate any chance I get to undress you with my eyes."

She gave him a pointed look, but smiled slightly. At least he _seemed _like his normal self. "I know, but I needed to get out of town. I was starting to feel cooped up." She shrugged. "Figured I'd come down and see you in person."

There was a brief pause, during which the two kept their eyes locked together. Dante's had a playful glint, but he looked unconvinced. Finally, he turned away from her, looking down. "So," he sighed. "What's the _real _reason, Lady? I have a hard time believing it's just to see _me_."

She paused, looking away, feeling a bit embarrassed that it really _was _just to see him. She was about to stutter out a response about how they were _friends_, weren't they, when she suddenly sensed a presence behind her. This was confirmed by Dante glancing above her head. She turned to see the same man who had talked to her before. He glanced back at Dante, but then caught her eye and grinned down at her. She sighed internally.

"Hey, don't mean to interrupt, but you took off without giving me your name."

She glared up at him. This was a bad time for interruptions. "What makes you think I'll give it to you now?"

"Aw, come on, baby, don't be that way."

Dante spoke up in front of her. "Hey, dude, if this Lady doesn't wanna give you her name, you're not gonna get it."

The man looked up at Dante again, and his gaze got considerably less friendly. "What are you, her pimp? She can speak for herself."

Lady was starting to get annoyed. "I already _did. _Now leave us alone."

The man looked between them for a moment. "Don't tell me you're with this douche bag." He motioned toward Dante. "He fucks every slut in town."

Lady felt more uncomfortable than she wanted to admit at the idea of Dante doing just that, but before she could say anything, he spoke up. "Look, buddy, if you know what's good for you, you'll turn around and go back the way you came."

The man laughed above her head. "Are you threatening me? Shit, all I wanted to do was make some nice conversation."

Dante opened his mouth, but Lady quickly spoke up. Dante was starting to sound pissed. "_We _were already in a conversation, so just go away and let us finish it, okay?"

He tore his eyes away from Dante and looked down at her, looking bitter. "Fine. Blame a guy for trying to make friends with a pretty girl. But if you're fucking this asshole I'm not interested, anyway. Too bad." Suddenly, he reached forward and lightly cupped his hand under her chin, tilting her face slightly more towards him. "With a face this cute, I didn't figure you for a whore."

It was only a brief moment of contact, but no sooner had she wrenched her head out of his grasp than there was a red flash at her side and a thud, and within a split second the man was pinned to the bar, Dante leaning over him, arm pinning him down by the neck.

Genuine fear flashed through her for a moment, looking at the man's cringing face. This wasn't Dante. Dante never threatened humans.

"Dante!" Lady stood up.

"H-hey man," the trapped man stuttered. "B-back off…"

He didn't back off, remaining still. All nearby heads swiveled in their direction. Lady also remained still, too surprised to move. She couldn't take her gaze off the man's terrified face, and the red leather arm beneath it.

"Hey, hey, cut it out, you two." The voice of the bartender, a man built like a bodyguard, broke out as he walked toward the pair.

Dante looked like an immovable statue, a contrast to the man squirming and wincing beneath him.

"Dante, stop it." Lady spoke up next to him, attempting to keep the shock out of her voice.

Dante didn't look at her, his eyes nailed to his target. "I think first he owes you an apology."

"Get your fucking arm off me, dude!" The man stuttered out, in a voice that was almost comically petrified and certainly in no position to be making demands.

"I'm serious, you two!" The bartender belted out. "You wanna fight, you take that shit outside or I'll kick you out myself."

They still didn't move. People had gathered and were standing on tiptoes, attempting to see the fight over the heads of the crowd. Lady felt embarrassed at the attention being brought to them and reached forward, grabbing Dante's arm, tugging it towards her and away from the man.

"Dante, come on. Let's go." She practically pleaded.

After a tense second in which everyone at the bar seemed to be holding their breath, Dante pulled his arm back slowly, never taking his eyes off the man. Lady felt relieved, but only slightly. Dante looked unfamiliar. No one spoke, and he slowly began backing away, Lady following. She was still holding on to his arm, afraid he'd suddenly spring into action again. The man hadn't moved from his position against the bar, watching Dante suspiciously, and beginning to look pissed off again now that he wasn't being immediately threatened. The two seemed to be having a contest of who could stare at the other without blinking the longest, but finally Dante turned and began to head toward the exit. Lady turned to follow, relieved.

"Yeah…you better fucking walk!" She cringed at the voice calling out after them. _Shut up, dumbass…_

"I know people, buddy! You pull that shit again and you're a dead man! You hear me? You and your bitch better not show your faces around here again!"

Lady tightened her grip on Dante's arm, feeling him tense beneath her, but fortunately he merely continued walking, the crowd of people parting like the Red Sea in front of them. She kept her eyes down, embarrassed at all the attention and the fact that she was the reason this had started. However, once they were back outside in the crisp night air, away from penetrating eyes, her embarrassment and surprise were replaced by anger.

Dante pulled his arm out of her grip, seeming determined not to look at her as he walked quickly ahead of her and down the street. She followed after him, fists clenched.

"What the hell was that, Dante?" She demanded. "Since when is attacking _humans _not beneath your standards?"

He glanced down at her, looking just as angry as she felt. "I didn't attack him, Lady."

"Are you _kidding _me? You _lunged _at him!"

Dante stopped abruptly, wheeling around to face her. She skidded to a halt. "I didn't _hurt _him, Lady, and I wasn't going to. I was just gonna scare him up a bit. You really think I'd beat up a human?"

"It sure looked like you were going to."

Dante scoffed, an unamused smirk appearing on his face. "You really think I'm that much of a monster?"

The way he seemed to spit out the word "monster" like it had a bad taste made Lady's stomach sink. The two stood in the street, staring at one another wordlessly for a moment. Their bodies were close enough that she could feel heat radiating from him. She could smell him, the strong, sort of musty smell she had come to associate with Dante.

"You're still upset, aren't you?" She said finally. It seemed to pour out of her, coming out quieter and more breathless than she intended.

She saw understanding flash across his eyes, but his expression didn't change, and he turned away from her and continued walking. "Upset about what?" He asked, too bitterly to hide the fact that he knew exactly what.

She followed after him, deciding to be straight and to the point. "About that time I saw your demon form. The things I said about it. You think I still feel that way."

"You do. You always will."

She grabbed his arm, pulling him roughly to a halt. He looked down at her, an eyebrow arched. Her face was furious. For a moment she simply breathed, unsure of what to say. Finally, the phrase seemed to once again pour out of her.

"Why don't you believe me?"

He smiled sadly, looking away from her. "Because you may _think _you don't care, you might believe it with everything in you. But the second you see it again, you'll feel just as disgusted as the first time."

"I wouldn't." She was practically whispering now, almost desperately.

"You might think you wouldn't, but you would, Lady." He looked down at her again. "You might be able to fool yourself for awhile, talking yourself out of it every time, but eventually enough will be too much. And then you'll leave for good."

For some reason, the mere thought of leaving Dante for good made her breathing feel constricted, her stomach sour. She didn't know how to respond. Deep down she feared he may have been right. His demon form _was _horrifying, a visual representation of what she had dedicated her life to destroying. But she shook her head slowly. "You're _wrong._"

"Am I?" He asked quietly, and then after a moment of tense silence, he pulled his arm out of her grip and continued walking.

She stood still for a moment, trying desperately to think of something she could do. Her mind was drawing a blank. She stood, watching him walk further and further away from her, until finally words burst out of her. She was beginning to feel light-headed.

"What do I have to do?"

He stopped, pausing a moment before turning around to face her. She felt a little embarrassed by how desperately she had called out to him, but her eyes were steely and determined. He didn't say anything, seemingly waiting for her to continue.

"What do I have to do to prove I'm _not _lying?" She continued, her voice quieter.

Dante looked at her wordlessly, appearing as though he wasn't sure how to respond. He eyed her expression thoughtfully, scanning her face, possibly trying to see if she was legit. She looked back, determined, desperate to see this end, to reach some sort of closure.

Finally, he began to walk toward her. She stayed where she was, tilting her head back to hold his gaze as he drew nearer to her. He stopped directly in front of her, and she looked up at him, determined.

"You really wanna prove it?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

He paused another moment, as if to ensure she really wasn't about to change her mind, turn around, and leave. She could almost feel his breath on her face. She stood still, determined not to break the silence until he responded first. His steely blue eyes seemed just as determined not to make the first move. They stood there like that, rigid, unblinking, for what felt like an eternity. Finally, there was some movement on his part, and she felt a firm grip on her elbow.

"Follow me."

He headed back in the direction they had come, pulling her along gently. She was too surprised at the sudden movement to pull her arm out of his grip and simply followed along, letting him guide her. Besides, though she wouldn't have admitted it, there was something comforting about letting him take control of the situation. It was a stark contrast to how lost he had seemed lately.

She had no idea where he was headed. They jostled their way past people standing on the side of the road, receiving a few curious glances along the way. He took her past Joey's bar, thankfully having the sense to steer around the crowd outside instead of plowing through – enough heads turned in their direction as it was. A little ways past the bar, where a lot less people were roaming the streets, she was finally about to ask where the hell they were going, when he suddenly veered off to the left, heading down a dark alleyway between two sturdy brick buildings.

He led her further and further into the darkness, nothing but tall dumpsters and piles of trash at their sides. The deeper they went, the more the lights of the city seemed to disappear, and there was something oddly comforting about being bathed in darkness. The noise of the city disappeared, too, not gone entirely but muted, as if they had entered a little bubble and locked the door. Finally, all that was left was a small sliver of light behind them, the entrance between the two buildings in the distance. There weren't even any people walking by. Dante finally stopped, letting her go. She blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the dark. She heard his footsteps walking away from her before she could make out his form.

He stopped several feet away from her. The feeling of being engulfed in a bubble, blocking out the noise and light, had momentarily halted her irritation, but as her eyes adjusted to the dark, her annoyance with the whole situation returned. She stayed where she was, looking across at him, and folded her arms.

"What are we doing here, Dante?"

"You said you wanted to prove you weren't lying."

"I _do_."

She could see even in the darkness that he was bracing himself for something, and suddenly it dawned on her. He was going to transform, right here, right now. She would be alone in the bubble with his demon form. Despite all she had said, despite how determined she had been, her heart began to beat a little bit faster. Really, when it came down to it, she had only gotten a glimpse of Dante's demon form, and it hadn't even been the whole thing – just his face. Furthermore, she had been bleeding to death and groggy, not exactly at her most coherent, and all she had now was a memory of that brief, hazy glimpse. If he transformed here, now, she'd see the whole thing, in perfect clarity. Despite all she had said, she didn't _want _to see it…

"Okay." Dante said after a pause. He seemed to be having just as many second thoughts as she was. "Get ready then, Lady." She saw him lift his arms slightly in the dark, bent at the elbows, fists clenched, body tensing in anticipation. He looked down at his fists, away from her. "If you wanna leave after this, I don't blame you. But if you're really so determined to stay…" He looked back up. She was sure he could see better in the dark than she could, and she hoped the nervous anticipation didn't show on her face. "Then take a good look, babe. 'Cause this is what I really look like."

Her nerves increased tenfold at that statement. She stayed rooted to the spot, muscles tensing. She felt ashamed at the fact that her thoughts instantly strayed to the guns strapped to her thighs. She knew Dante would never hurt her, but what if he wasn't…himself while in demon form? What if he lost control or something? All rational thoughts, including the fact that he had apparently been "himself" enough to fly her to the hospital when she had been dying, vanished in the face of her fear. Past experience had taught her that she was no match for him when he was in human form and going _easy_ on her. If he somehow lost his grip on himself and actually _tried _to attack her while in demon form, her guns would be useless. He could tear her to shreds within seconds…

She tried to keep a grip on her _own _sanity as these frenzied thoughts played through her mind, though her body remained rigid as a board. Somewhere deep inside, the voice of reason and the voice that had brought her here in the first place reminded her that Dante would never do that, and she was determined to look his demon form in the eyes and not be afraid.

He was looking down now, his body shaking slightly, visibly straining towards whatever he was about to become. She hadn't actually _seen _him transform last time and it was a bit unnerving to see Dante trembling, face wincing slightly in pain. She only had a few seconds to contemplate this before he suddenly began to glow, bathed in a red light. She took an involuntary step back, gasping slightly, and then with a low rumble of pain, there was a blinding flash. She turned her face away, using a hand to shield her eyes, and when the light faded and she lowered her hand tentatively, a demon had taken his place.

The darkness of the alley did nothing to hide him, as a red glow pulsed around his body, lighting up the world around them. He was completely unrecognizable as Dante, but the face looked just like the one that had haunted her dreams. She stood stock still, heart thudding, scanning him from head to toe. His body was mostly red with strips of blue-ish black. His hands and feet were clawed, long nails curving sinisterly, fingers twitching. His skin had been replaced with scales that looked hard as rock, decorated with trails of pulsing veins. Red flaps of skin stuck out on his chest like a grotesque imitation of the collar on his coat, bordering a black, ridged patch of scales that made it look as though his chest had been ripped open to expose ribs. Big, black, vein-covered wings sprouted from behind him, twitching ever so slightly.

It was the wings that most screamed _not human_, but it was his face that truly chilled her to the core. It was worse than she remembered from her foggy half-conscious memory. It was too flat – no nose, no chin, no jawbone, his head simply appearing as an extension of his torso. His mouth was a mere slit that appeared to be grinning obscenely, undoubtedly filled with sharp teeth, and the top of his head was covered in white scales, some of which were hanging from his head in strips, a cruel mockery of his white hair. But finally, his eyes. This was the area that looked completely foreign. They were not blue, but instead a bright, glowing yellow, too small, unnatural, sinister. There was no emotion in those eyes. There _couldn't _be. Lady couldn't look at them without her own retinas hurting.

There was absolutely nothing human about him any more, nothing _Dante _about him, and every instinct in her body was screaming _run run run. _Her trigger fingers twitched instinctively and her legs begged her to turn around and flee. She didn't even try to keep the fear out of her face. She couldn't. She was rooted, petrified, her brain feeling frozen and unable to process anything except the sheer horror of the inhuman monster standing in front of her, twitching, burning his image into her eyes.

What in reality was only a few seconds felt like an eternity. She stood there, and after the initial shock and horror had been processed, she tried to associate this monster image with that of the vulnerable, musty-smelling, very human-seeming man who had been standing there mere moments before. She couldn't do it. There was _nothing _about him that resembled Dante anymore, and for a few horrible seconds terror chilled her to the bone at the thought that maybe he had been right. Maybe this was too much. Maybe she'd never be able to reconcile his human and demon sides. Maybe they couldn't make it as more than simple business partners. Maybe this image would haunt her forever and overlap too often with the image of the human Dante she thought she knew so well…

The very thought of that made tears spring to her eyes, and she didn't try to hold them back, unabashed. The sudden burning in her chest seemed to melt her frozen limbs, and as that happened she felt determination clawing its way past the fear and horror. She was desperate – _desperate – _to somehow humanize this image, force out some sign of life in the monster that could make her believe this truly was the Dante she had grown to care so much about, more than she ever would have thought she could care about anything after the death of her mother and destruction of her innocence. But how? Talking to him would do no good – if he _could _even talk still, his voice was undoubtedly just as demonic as the rest of him, and furthermore, her throat felt too tight and dry for her to attempt to form words.

And then, suddenly, she knew what she had to do.

As if being guided by an invisible hand, she slowly began to walk towards the devil, looking right into his unfamiliar face. She felt like her body was on autopilot, her mind the only thing still under her control. Something told her that this, right here, was the moment of reckoning. She had a choice. She could halt, turn around, and force herself to leave, as her instinct was begging her to do. She could turn away from him, hide her face until he transformed back to normal, and apologize, admitting that he had been right, and acknowledging internally that this was the end of anything that might have been. Or, she could continue exactly as she was doing now, heart pounding, eyes brimming, for once in her life letting nothing but honest emotion show clear as day on her face. She could continue on and show him acceptance, and once she did, that would be her way of confirming that she did want to give this a chance.

She knew that, either way, things would never be the same. The first route would be a permanent end, a stumbling block forever between them; the second would lead to places unfamiliar to her, but places she ultimately wanted to go, places she _needed _to go. A thought flashed through her head, a thought that would have made her cringe with shame at any other time – _I don't want to be alone. _She was sure that message was visible in her eyes, and she actually _hoped _that within that demon form, he could see it.

As she drew nearer to him, she could begin to feel intense heat radiating from his devil form. The demon face still looked down at her blankly, if not sinisterly, giving no visual indication that he had any clue of what she was doing. He merely stood there, twitching slightly but otherwise unmoving. She was beginning to have second thoughts now, thinking this was a mistake, that he would laugh at or hurt her if she did what she was about to do. But she forced herself to believe that Dante was still inside of there, that he was still himself behind the empty gaze, the nightmarish face.

So she stopped, directly in front of him, looking up and straight into his face. Seeing it up close made her knees feel like jelly, and for a moment she froze again. She blinked, the radiance he gave off hurting her eyes, and when she did tears streamed down her face. Her body was so close to his and she was afraid to touch it, afraid of how it would feel, afraid it might actually hurt to touch. But this was it – the defining moment. After this, there was no going back. The world seemed to have disappeared and it felt as though they really were in a bubble, frozen in time, the fate of their universe hinging on this moment.

She would think, looking back on it later, that that moment had required more courage than anything so far in her life. After a few seconds of hesitation, looking up into those soulless eyes with tear-streaked cheeks, she did the only thing she could think of – leaned forward, clenching her eyes shut, and embraced the demon. She wrapped her arms around his torso, her head buried into his chest. He was very warm, but the scales were rough and the feel of them made her body scream to pull away, to get away, to let him go, but it didn't hurt, and she kept her muscles rigid, beating down the disgust. At first he didn't move, and she began to tremble against him, tremble at the effort of keeping the tears back and at the thought that he wouldn't respond. If nothing happened to indicate that there was humanity hidden somewhere beneath this shell, she would never be able to associate this image with the Dante she knew. So she squeezed the rigid, emotionless form desperately, praying that Dante was somewhere inside there.

And then, after a few seconds, the arms lying lifeless at his sides lifted and enveloped her, squeezing back.

At that moment the dam finally burst, and she found herself sobbing against his chest, tears of pure relief. The arms squeezed her tighter, but not tight enough to hurt her, as they undoubtedly could have. His impenetrable scales suddenly felt sturdy, not threatening. Though she could feel the hysterical breakdown of her body, inside she felt nothing but peace.

"Dante…" she whispered.

Suddenly there was another flash, blinding her with red even through her closed lids, and warmth engulfed her for a brief moment. When the light faded, she was still in his arms, but now they were _his _arms, scales replaced by rough leather, a beating heart, warm skin and a musty, human smell. The familiar arms squeezed her tighter still, and she kept her face buried in his chest, not ready yet to look up into his. Her body began to calm down, matching the serenity of her inner state, though it threatened to burst again as his hand reached up, smoothing the hair on the back of her head gently. It remained there, and they stood like that, clinging to one another in the dark. There was so much comfort in that moment she felt she could stay there forever.

Finally, she lifted her head, looking back up into his familiar face, and she was only partially shocked to discover that her face wasn't the only one streaked with tears. He didn't bother trying to hide it, as he had that first time she had seen him cry, what felt like so long ago now. The tears simply sat there on his face, beneath blue eyes that were radiating a peace similar to the one she felt inside.

And then she felt the tiniest of smiles appear on her face as only one thought filled her head.

_Devils never cry._

She wanted to say it out loud, but she didn't need to. He was thinking it, too, and in the next moment he leaned forward, closing the gap between them, soft lips pressed together once again, every inch of them connected, skin on skin, buried in one another. She became lost in his arms, as did he in hers, the two of them intoxicated by the complete and utter peace, hearts bursting in a way neither of them knew could exist.

Lady didn't know what the future would hold. The rest of the night would undoubtedly entail both of them walking, arms around one another, back to his place, and spending the night together once again. It would be different this time as they explored this newfound feeling more, as they explored the new connection this moment had created between them. As for what happened after tonight, after this moment, after they left their bubble and headed back out into the real world, filled with bright lights and loud cars and groups of noisy people, she didn't really know. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was now, and they stood there like that, demon and girl, bodies connected desperately in the dark, in a world where nothing else existed.


	30. Heal

**A/N:**Well, it took over two years, but here it is…the final chapter. I can't help but feel a little sad. I posted the first chapter of this story in April of 2008, and when I think of how many significant things have happened in my life since then it's almost mind-boggling. Needless to say, this project has been with me a long time and through a lot of stuff, so it's a bit sad to see it end. At the same time, though, it feels really good to complete it.

I've said it before, but I'll say it one last time: a big, huge, gigantic THANK YOU to everyone who read this, reviewed it, faved, whatever. I write first and foremost because I enjoy doing it, but to know that other people out there enjoy my writing too means the world to me, and I appreciate all the feedback I get. So one last time: thanks. =)

This epilogue is rather short and simple, but I don't think there is anything more that needs to be said. I'm happy with the way it turned out, and I hope you are, too. So with that, I leave you. Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you enjoy the final chapter.

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty – Heal**_

**[XXX]**

_Four Years Later_

Lady watched as the street lights lining the road came to life, the bulbs flickering a few times before giving off a steady glow. In the distance she could see the main road, crowded, surrounded by buildings and life. That area didn't really _need _street lights, seeing as the buildings and neon signs provided plenty of illumination, but where she stood it was less crowded, and the lights nearby didn't seem quite so superfluous. The lamps were a bit of a formality, anyway, lighting up to inform the world that the sun had almost set. Dusk surrounded her, the dark blue of the sky looming up ahead. Somewhere out there, a small but glorious strip of pink lined the bottom of the horizon, the last sign of the nearly set sun, but from where she stood all she could see were buildings. As she leaned against the garage, arms folded, she visualized the scene in her mind. It would be nice someday, she thought, to be out of the city by this time and be able to watch a real sunset, something she hadn't seen in God only knew how long. But for now she simply gazed at the industrial landscape, scraping her boots absentmindedly against the gritty pavement.

She was waiting for her bike to get out of the shop. Normally she could handle repairs herself, but every now and then she brought it in to be fixed by professionals, just to be safe. Last thing she needed was for the bike to malfunction while she was in the middle of a high-speed chase, and though she was good at fixing it, she was no expert. She liked this shop; the guys in it were nice enough, and it was on the edge of town, a bit isolated from the rest of the city. She'd been having difficulty with the bike earlier that day, and since she had the night off, decided to get it checked out. She usually watched them as they worked – she was too defensive of the vehicle to leave it out of her sight while in the hands of others – but they were almost ready to send it back to her, so she had left, opting instead to stand in the fresh air and watch night begin to fall.

As it turned out, she wasn't alone for very long. After a few minutes of standing there, a figure riding a bike of his own began to come down the path leading to the auto shop. She knew it was Dante the second he entered her line of vision, his white hair seeming to reflect the flickering lights from the street lamps. She didn't change her position, though she raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

He rode down the path, skidding to a halt only once he was right in front of her, the sudden screech of the tires sending up tiny dust clouds.

"Hey. Your bike almost done?"

She had told him she'd be here, which explained how he knew where to find her; what he wanted, though, she didn't know.

"Should be ready in a few minutes. What's up?"

"Got a call. Bunch of demons congregating way at the edge of town. Sounds like basic Hells, but a lot of them. You wanna tag along? It'll be fun."

She glanced at the front doors of the garage. "Sure, but you don't have to wait. Head off without me."

"No way, babe. You're gonna race me there."

She smirked. Whenever they were both headed on a mission that was in a relatively uncrowded place, what started as a simple drive inevitably turned into a contest to see who could get there faster. It had become a sort of tradition.

"Still bitter about last time?"

"You cheated."

"It's not my fault you didn't know about the short cut."

He shook his head, but grinned. "Not this time, woman. There's no short cuts where we're going. Nothing but open road."

She couldn't help but grin at the look on his face, mischievous with almost childlike glee at the prospect of the two of them speeding down the road at top speed. She did love to drive fast – the exhilaration was unmatchable – and their little friendly competitions always involved plenty of that.

"Fine. But you have to wait for my bike to be ready."

"No prob. These demons aren't in a residential area, anyway. I'm in no rush."

She didn't say anything then, smirking slightly, excited at the prospect of actually getting some action tonight. Soon enough, a sweaty mechanic left the garage to inform her that her bike was ready. After testing it out she agreed to follow him, both of them driving up the path, through the city, and beginning to speed up once they reached the more rural roads with no one around to see them breaking traffic laws. One of them occasionally shot ahead of the other, but for the most part they ended up driving side by side.

**[XXX]**

Within a few months after that night she embraced his demon form, Lady made the move down to Dante's city. Well, it was _her _city now, too. At first she had considered moving into Devil May Cry – and she did live there awhile while she was getting settled in – but ultimately the two had decided to keep their businesses running independently. They joined forces often – so often, in fact, sometimes it felt like they _were _running one organization – but they were still two separate entities, so Lady had her own place. At first she hadn't liked the idea of abandoning the area her house had been in, but after that night, the idea of always having to travel so far to see Dante had been an idea she liked even less. Not to mention, selling her house had been a big help in paying off her medical bills. She had always been one to choose practicality over luxury, so the transition from quaint house in the neighborhood to cramped city apartment hadn't phased her.

To keep things balanced, they tended to cover separate areas, Lady sometimes traveling all the way back to her former hometown for a mission. Sometimes, those really in the know would request both of them to handle a case. Other times, if Lady got something really heavy, she'd ask Dante to come along. Most of the time, however, they simply ended up in the same place at the same time. Sometimes they ran across demons no one had reported yet, and since they weren't getting paid anyway, the job got finished faster if the two of them were involved. And sometimes – like tonight – they simply worked together for the hell of it.

In the past four years or so, she had seen many things and many types of demons, all shapes, sizes, and equipped with strange abilities. Time and experience had only made her a better and more confident fighter. She enjoyed challenges, though now she was better at recognizing her limits, and less ashamed to ask for help when she needed it. Still, sometimes there was nothing better than a fight that was easy and predictable; while anxious tension fueled a harder fight, sometimes it was nice to be able to feel nothing but pure enjoyment.

Dante knew this; that was why, for these little fights that hardly paid as it was (and sometimes didn't pay at all) he usually invited Lady to come along, and vice versa. Fighting the Hells was almost nostalgic now. They were the first demons Lady had ever killed, and the first time she had fought alongside Dante _without _totally despising him had been against a group of them, that night after Temen-ni-gru. Fighting them – especially with the white-haired demon hunter by her side – was something very familiar, something that brought about old memories and created new ones.

So she sped after him as the night began to fall, the dark blue of dusk slowly turning black. Soon they had left the busy city behind, speeding away until there was green grass at their sides and stars twinkling up above. They didn't stop to admire them, however, focusing on the pavement flashing by, moving too quickly to appreciate the scenery. Dante stood up on his bike, gripping the handlebars and shouting excitedly into the night. Lady remained much more reserved, but was traveling at the same exhilarating speed. He looked like a young boy riding a dirt bike down a hill; his childish antics sometimes made her roll her eyes, but with the rush of wind making her heart feel full, it only made her grin.

Soon enough she started to see a few Hells straggling along the side of the road. _Finally, _she thought. She used one hand to pull out a pistol and fired a barrage of bullets at the demon bodies as they flew by, Dante doing the same with his handguns. There were only a few stray Hells here and there, but the area was unpopulated enough that they could fire freely without fear of harming anything except their intended targets.

"Yeah, baby!" Dante yelled, sending a scythe-wielding demon off its feet as it burst into a cloud of sand.

Soon they reached an area that was crowded with the demons, and Dante began to slow down, pulling his bike over to the side of the road. Lady did the same, parking behind him. No one else was around; just the two hunters, the swarm of demons, and the open field. Dante holstered his guns and opted to whip out Rebellion instead. He turned to look at his partner, who was arming herself.

"Ready, Lady?"

She glanced over at him. "Please. I could do this blindfolded."

He grinned. "But that wouldn't be nearly as fun, would it?"

She smiled and then, without looking, aimed a gun over her shoulder and fired, sensing the presence behind her and sending it spiraling towards the ground with a howl.

"No, it wouldn't."

The two proceeded to fight off the hoard, as they had done countless times before. These demons were the most common and the easiest to destroy, but they also tended to appear in large numbers, so the fights took some time. Of course, with the two of them working together, it was significantly lessened. They had worked well together from the start, before they even knew each other well. Now, after years of working together, they were like two gears in the same machine. They had grown to understand each others' fighting styles, their strengths and weaknesses. They focused on their targets but kept their eyes on one another. Their bodies seemed to move together, dancing to the same rhythm, pushing and pulling until there were no gaps, no hidden weaknesses in their battle.

Lady had grown to love watching him fight. No matter how many times she had seen it, his ability would always be a marvel. His movements were quick, violent, erratic; but at the same everything was precise, deliberate, amazingly skilled. He could fight for hours and hardly work up a sweat, and it was very rare that he actually looked as though he was being challenged. He flowed through the motions with the greatest of ease, and there was something poetic about the way he moved, effortlessly and with clear passion for what he was doing. Sometimes she envied him, but then she remembered the price he paid to receive those gifts; most of the time, she was simply happy he was on humanity's side. _Her _side.

The demons dropped like flies around them, coating the ground with dust and blood, filling the night air with shrieks of rage and pain. Dante glanced over at his partner. "How's it going, Lady?"

She ripped the blade of her rocket launcher out of the nearest demon, which disappeared with an agonized cry. "How does it look?"

Dante blew another couple away casually with Ebony. "How many have you killed?"

Her brow furrowed. "I don't know…twenty?"

"Wanna make this interesting?"

She smirked slightly. He just loved challenging her. "What did you have in mind?"

"Let's see who can kill the most by the end of the night."

She looked over at him finally. "What do we win?"

"Bragging rights, of course." He decapitated a nearby demon with Rebellion before it even had a chance to howl at him. "I'm on twenty-six."

She shook her head at him slightly, smiling, but didn't say anything more, resuming her fight. God, he loved to watch her fight. Her movements were almost graceful, the execution with which she used her weapons flawless. She looked somehow strong and soft at the same time, hard muscles tensing, clothes clinging to her feminine form like a second skin. He liked seeing her sweaty, hair matted to her forehead, skin and clothes stained with dirt. To him, it was then that she was most beautiful.

They continued taking on the hoard, slowly whittling down its numbers. Dante counted silently to himself, keeping score, occasionally yelling out what number he was on proudly. Lady seemed to ignore his little game, keeping her effort focused on her opponents, though he saw her glancing at him every now and then. She seemed to be smirking slightly throughout the entire battle, clearly enjoying herself, and he couldn't keep the grin off his own face. Destroying demons under an uncrowded night sky alongside his Lady – right now, as far as he was concerned, there was nothing wrong with the world.

The hoard began to grow slimmer after awhile until finally the end was in sight. That was when the competition really began to increase, the two devil hunters racing to see who could reach the final few stragglers first. Soon enough, the night was silent once again; the grass was sticky with blood, the hunters covered in sweat and dust, but there was no noise except the occasional whispering breeze. They stood there, looking around for any last demons.

"Looks like that's the last of them," Dante spoke up finally. His senses were informing him that he was the only demon around for miles. Lady nodded, sighing and wiping her forehead with the back of her arm.

"So." He flicked his sword, clearing the shiny surface of demon blood, and then sheathed it before turning to look at her. "How many?"

"Um…" She looked off into the distance, thinking. "Fifty-six, I think."

"Ha! I got sixty-three exactly."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know, I didn't even really count. It could have been more."

"No good trying to make excuses, babe."

She looked over at him. "Well, how was I supposed to concentrate when you kept distracting me?"

He grinned, folding his arms and taking a step closer to her. "Distracting you, huh? How so?"

She didn't play along. "By constantly shouting out numbers. It threw me off."

"Hmm." He made a noise of disapproval at her seriousness, but dropped the subject. He glanced around. The sudden stillness was almost shocking, his body tingling slightly from being at ease after so much constant movement. Lady seemed to feel the effect, too, pacing slightly and stretching, looking up toward the sky. He looked back toward their bikes, parked on the side of the road. The world was empty. No one was driving down the road, and there were no people or demons around. They had a beautiful view of the stars – something they didn't have very often – and the crisp night air was invigorating. He didn't really feel like heading back to the city just yet.

Lady walked towards the bikes, glancing backwards once she reached them and realized she wasn't being followed.

"Dante?" He glanced back at her. "You coming?"

"I don't know, babe."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't _know_?"

"Yeah." He turned his body to face her. "I don't feel like going back to the city just yet."

She paused, hands gripping her bike's handlebars but not mounting it yet. "Where_ do _you want to go?"

He shrugged. "What's wrong with here?"

"Uh, there's _demon_ blood all over the ground here."

"So let's walk a few yards away, then."

"And do what?"

He walked towards her. "Oh, I don't know. Be away from people? Look at the stars?" He stood next to her, slinking an arm out and around her waist, casually drawing her closer to him, though she was looking off into the distance. "Take a break for once?"

She didn't really react to his arm, neither pulling away nor drawing closer, as if she was making up her mind. The quiet wilderness did fill her with a sense of peace, one that she would have liked to linger in, but she had never been very good at doing nothing. "I've been on break most of the day."

He chuckled. "Did you just kill fifty-six demons or not?" He reached forward then, smoothing aside hair that was matted to her forehead with demonic blood, as if taking it as evidence of her hard work.

She looked up at him finally. Dante was always looking for opportunities to relax; she, on the other hand, seemed to always be looking for something to do. He was right; she had nowhere to be that night. This place – this quiet, uncrowded, beautiful place – was as good as any.

"Fine," she agreed finally, and when they turned to walk away from the bikes, his arm still around her, he felt her body sink slightly into his. Even such a small, subtle movement sent a certain kind of thrill through both of them, one that was different from the thrill of demon hunting and couldn't be found anywhere else.

She followed as he walked away, their boots sloshing through blood-covered blades of grass. They walked silently until the grass became increasingly green. At first Lady wasn't sure if they were just going to continue walking, but after a moment, without warning, Dante stopped and sat in the field with a sigh. He removed his sword, laying it next to him so he could lean back, hands behind his head, one ankle stacked on top of the other. Lady smirked at him, but took a seat on the wet grass beside him, a bit hesitantly. For a moment she simply sat there, feeling the soft, slightly prickly grass beneath her hands. When was the last time she had actually sat down in the grass? She couldn't remember.

For a while he simply looked up at the sky, an infinite black expanse with millions of glittering dots. They could never see the stars in the city, and lying here like this, feeling as if he was about to be engulfed and swallowed whole by the endless void, was almost like being in a different universe. A much more peaceful and quiet universe, one in which, for a little while, they could pretend they were free from the constraints of society. No demons to fight. No ringing phone. No loud traffic and annoying customers and hard concrete. Just the grass, the stars, and the one person he truly cared about.

He glanced over at her. She was sitting, knees bent, staring up at the sky. One hand rested on the ground for support, the other picking absentmindedly at the grass. She was tensed slightly. He suddenly felt cold as he thought of her warm body lying next to his, and decided to remedy that situation.

"Hey." He spoke up. She looked down at him. "You need to relax, Lady."

"I am relaxing."

He chuckled. "Sometimes I think you don't know _how _to relax."

She looked away then, undoubtedly finding some truth in his words.

"Come on." He said, patting the ground next to him. "Lay down."

She looked at the ground next to him uncertainly. "I don't want to get my shirt wet."

He laughed. "Since when do you care about getting your clothes dirty?"

"I said _wet, _not dirty. I don't want it sticking to me the whole ride back."

He grinned. "Well, you could always take it off after. At my place."

She gave him a pointed look, but smirked, shaking her head at him lightly.

"Come on," he said again, returning his hand behind his head but nodding towards the ground next to him. With a sigh, she removed Kalina Ann and slowly lowered herself down until her back was flat against the ground, her head level with his. She wasn't pressed against him, but close enough that he could feel warmth coming from her body. Her head tilted back, looking up at the sky similar to the way he had been.

It had been a while since they'd had a moment like this, a moment where they were able to do nothing except be together. Dante sometimes wished Lady would move in with him so they could at least spend every night together, but he knew even if she did that wasn't a realistic desire. They often ran on different schedules. She travelled quite a bit more than he did. It seemed that most of the time when they saw each other, it was business-related (though fortunately, business and pleasure were often one and the same for the two of them). They didn't have a lot of moments like these, where they simply _were_. Still, just knowing she was there, just knowing she existed, even if she wasn't with him, made him feel a deep sort of satisfaction.

They had never given a name to their relationship, and he didn't think they needed to. Neither of them exactly liked to talk about their feelings, but they had grown to understand one another intimately, so a lot of things passed between them unspoken. The way they felt about each other was one of those things. She wasn't his "girlfriend" or his "lover." Such words felt too trivial to describe the deep bond that had formed between them over the years. Girlfriends could break up with you and be forgotten forever. Lady was always going to be part of his life; they had reached the point where you care too much about another person, have had too many experiences with them, to ever stop caring about them, no matter what they do, no matter how long you go without seeing them. She was just his Lady, and that was that.

And he didn't need to hear her say anything to know she felt the same way about him. It was a mutual understanding, confirmed by the little things, such as the way she would open herself up to him, or the fact that, unlike when they were first getting to know each other, he could confidently reach forward to touch her without worrying about her getting angry or not reciprocating.

Case in point, after a moment or two of silence, he snaked his arm out and under her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. The old Lady from years ago – the Lady that, perhaps, still had broken fragments of Mary resting inside – would have likely tried to pull away, or perhaps obliged but been stiff and self-conscious in his arms. This Lady felt warm and relaxed, and moved with him to bury herself into his side. They moved until the side of her head rested against his cheek, both of them, for the moment, still looking up at the sky. They stayed like that, simply feeling each other breathe.

After awhile, Lady turned her head to look up at him, and he did the same, their bodies moving apart slightly so that they could see the other. There was no light around except the gentle light of the moon, but beneath it they could still see each other clearly. She almost looked a bit sleepy, eyes half lidded. He smiled lightly, smoothing his hand up and down her shoulder.

"So. Have you given any more thought to my suggestion?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What suggestion?"

His grin widened then. "Of taking your shirt off back at my place."

She gave him an exasperated look and closed her eyes, banging her forehead against his jaw line, sighing. "Dante, you ruined a perfectly good moment." She was chuckling, however, and the corners of her mouth were curving up against her will.

"What? We haven't in awhile."

She didn't respond, shaking her head at him, but she was smiling lightly. She kept her forehead pressed against the side of his face and closed her eyes.

After awhile, she felt like she was going to fall asleep. The darkness, the night air, the steady rise and fall of Dante's chest beside her. All of it lulled her into a deep sense of peace that made her drift further and further away. What Dante had said was true, though – she couldn't remember the last time she had gotten a chance to lie beside him like this. Doing so made her realize just how much she had missed feeling his body next to hers. Being next to him always filled her with a sense of security and peace she had never found anywhere else.

After awhile of silence, she felt him nudge her slightly. "Hey. Not falling asleep on me, are ya?"

She shook her head slightly. "No. Just resting."

He chuckled. "So much for not wanting to lay in the grass, huh?" She merely shrugged next to him.

Without warning, he suddenly wrapped both arms around her and maneuvered her until she was lying on top of him. She lifted her head up and looked down at him, surprised.

"You know, as nice as it is here, I suddenly have the urge to be back home in my warm bed. With you, of course."

She smirked. "Hmm, I don't know. I was just starting to like being here."

"Well, we gotta leave sometime."

She rolled off of him, sitting up. He sat up as well, leaning an arm across his knees. She looked back up at the sky again.

"It is beautiful though, isn't it?"

He looked up a final time at the stars, then back down at her. "Yeah. It is."

She turned her head to look at him then, smiling. Her eyes perfectly reflected her inner state, warm and full of peace, and he smiled back, feeling warmth radiating through his own core. She turned away then, beginning to stand.

"Come on, let's head back."

He stood as well, and the two re-equipped themselves and began the walk back toward their bikes. Dante walked beside her.

"Wanna race back?"

She smirked. "You know, we never even declared a winner last time."

He shrugged. "So? It's not about winning."

She smiled then. He was right. They loved to drive fast next to one another, sometimes one of them playfully jumping ahead. It was never really about who won.

They reached their bikes, untouched and not far away. The demon blood had already begun fading from the ground. Dante watched as she mounted her bike, adjusting her weapons and her rocket launcher. He climbed on his own. She revved the engine and turned to look back at him.

"So, are we doing this or what?"

"You're on, Lady. Finish line is the steps outside of Devil May Cry."

She smirked. "Who said I was going to your place?"

"No one, but you wouldn't turn down an offer from me, would ya?"

"Sometimes I think I should on occasion just to keep your ego in line."

He chuckled, scooting his bike forward until he was right next to her. "But then I wouldn't be able to do all those things you like. Like _this_."

He leaned forward then, kissing her before she had a chance to figure out what was going on. He did that sometimes, kissing her randomly when she least expected it. In the past he never would have dared such a thing, knowing it could result in her being angry and him being in pain, but now she rarely pulled away, and if she did, it wasn't because she didn't want to kiss him. No matter how many times they had kissed over the past few years, every time felt new to him, somehow containing the magic of the first time it had ever happened. He hoped desperately that kissing her would never grow routine; that seeing her would always make him feel the same way it did now.

Someday, he figured, he'd probably go the way of his father. Someday they might get married, and she might be mother to the next generation of Sparda children. They had never discussed such things, but he knew deep down that someday he would be responsible for carrying on his lineage, and he hoped desperately that when that day came, Lady would still be there. Of course, that was still far away. They were too young to think about settling down and having a family. They were only in their early twenties, after all. They had grown up considerably since that night at Temen-ni-gru, back when they had still technically been teenagers, but they still had a lot of growing up yet to do, and Dante was in no rush. For now, he didn't need to think about responsibility and children. For now they could still run wild and free. They could afford to be young and in love.

They pulled away after a moment, and Lady met his eyes, smiling. Her heart felt like it was too big for her, as though it was going to burst because it simply could not contain the feeling it held. Dante grinned at her, white hair falling into his eyes. She found something extremely comforting about the fact that Dante would always be Dante, that he would always be the same cocky, messy, obnoxious, loveable demon that he always had been. All the things she had once found annoying about him now brought her comfort. She almost wished, sometimes, that she could put into words just how grateful she was for him. He had given her life something deep and meaningful, far beyond anything she thought she could ever experience after the death of her mother. He had given her hope; he had helped her heal.

Dante smiled back at her, at her mismatched eyes and scarred, beautiful face. Lady had been the person that had made him begin to give a shit about the rest of the world, back on that night at the tower, and she was the reason he still did. She was the reason he wasn't simply living for revenge anymore. He was living because he had someone to live for.

"So." He said finally. "You still wanna reject my offer?"

She laughed lightly, then smirked. "Race you there."

He grinned. "Yeah, baby." He revved his own engine, then without warning she sped off into the night, and he followed close behind.

When the two first met, they had seemed like polar opposites, like ebony and ivory, night and day. Of course, the things in life that seem the most different are often the things that work best together. Maybe after awhile you'll discover they're not so different after all, and then you'll wonder how they ever survived apart in the first place.

The roar of engines filled the night air as the two devil hunters sped down the empty road, laughing and shouting at the sky. The future was unknown, as it always would be, but one thing was for certain; "apart" was something the ivory-haired demon and the ebony-haired huntress would never be. The two sped down the road, side by side, disappearing together into the endless night.

_**-The End.**_


End file.
